


1095

by dothraki_shieldmaiden



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Anxiety, Codependency, Durincest, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Plot With Porn, Recreational Drug Use, Sibling Incest, Underage Drinking, mild eating disorder
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-14
Updated: 2013-11-03
Packaged: 2017-12-11 20:15:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 67,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/802778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dothraki_shieldmaiden/pseuds/dothraki_shieldmaiden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>1095 days. 3 years. Time enough for a life to be built and destroyed. </p>
<p>Sometimes you find the right person. They're just in the wrong place at the wrong time.</p>
<p>This is what happens next.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Both a Beginning and an End

**Author's Note:**

> The premise for this fic is very loosely based on the movie _500 Days of Summer_. All that means is that there will be two or more timelines involved. So, fun. 
> 
> Enjoy. <3

**  
**-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

**Day 495**

 

            Fili thinks that he might crush the lightweight plastic of his phone as his fingers clench down hard. His whole body trembles and several ashes from his lit cigarette land on the cuff of his jacket. The cold night air cuts through his jacket and through his skin, slicing into his veins and bones. He welcomes the chill, feeling like anything would be better than what he feels now, the tear of something essential being ripped out by his own hands. He fights the sudden tears welling in his eyes and thickness swelling in his throat, as well as the overwhelming desire to throw up as he says the words that he never wanted to say, not in a million years.

                “Kili…I can’t do this anymore.”

 

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

 

 

**Day 1**

 

 

                Kili’s always loved the placement of his birthday, the second week of June, just after school lets out and he’s free for a few glorious weeks of summer. Fili accepts his own early spring birthday and hopes that maybe now that he’s finally going to a proper university in the fall, his birthday will maybe fall in a Spring Break, just so he can finally put Kili’s taunts about having to go to school on his birthday to rest.

                But all thoughts of the future are put on the back burner for the moment because this birthday of Kili’s promises to be positively epic. A week ago Fili sat with his mother and his uncle Thorin and watched as Kili walked across the stage and collected his high school diploma. And now his little brother is turning eighteen, and, as Fili has teased him numerous times, will finally be joining him in the realms of adulthood.

                “Time for you to start paying the bills,” he comments in the morning when Kili stumbles down the stairs to be greeted by several presents and their mother sweeping him up in her furious embrace. Kili flips him off over their mother’s shoulder and examines his presents when he’s finally released. Several shirts from his mother are accepted with happiness as is the new bow stabilizer from Thorin. Fili feels a little spark of smugness as his present is accepted with the most excitement—a new set of speakers and a sub-woofer for Kili’s Jeep.

                “You’ll help me put them in, right?” Kili asks as he single-mindedly tears into the plate of eggs and bacon set before him.

                “Of course,” Fili murmurs indulgently as he watches Kili.

                Kili makes a small noise as he gulps down orange juice before wolfing down even more food. “Not today,” he mumbles around his mouthful. “Too much shit—“ His mother’s hand cuffs the back of his head lightly, “stuff to do already.”

                “Like what?” Their mother questions lightly as she leans against the counter, indulging in her one a day cup of coffee. Fili wishes that he could have her self-control—for the past few years he’s been the main consumer of coffee in the house and Kili always teases him that it’s that habit which stunted his growth to the point where his younger sibling tops him by a few inches.

                “Stuff,” Kili answers before he flashes the smile which is guaranteed to charm their mother, their uncle, his teachers and anyone else he chooses. Fili sometimes hates him for the fact that with an easy grin he can get whatever he wants, but then Kili beams at him and he’s caught in the same magic.

                It works now, as their mother raises a curious eyebrow but shakes her head in acceptance. “Be careful,” she says to both of them, but it’s to Fili that she looks.

                “Smooth,” Fili mutters to Kili as they rush out of the house and into Kili’s battered Jeep Wrangler. “We’re going to do stuff? That won’t raise suspicions at all.”

                “What did you want me to say? ‘Don’t worry Mom, we’re just going to buy cigarettes, party, and get really drunk’? That’d work.” Kili throws the Jeep in gear and tears out of the driveway. The wind whips through Fili’s shaggy hair and not for the first time he wishes that his brother hadn’t taken the damn doors off.

                Two packs of cigarettes (“You owe me for all the ones you’ve bummed off of me,” Fili sternly tells Kili), a trip to a liquor store for Fili, and a change of clothing later, and they stand outside on their cousin Ori’s backyard deck. Fili casually watches the smoke from his cigarette curl upward as he exhales. Next to him Kili jitters as he inhales and flicks the excess ash off the end of his cigarette. Fili’s eyes flick towards the French doors as Ori comes outside to join them.

                Ori’s just a year younger than him but has already graduated from university and managed to land a job at the local museum. His thin cousin pushes his glasses back up the bridge of his nose as he looks at the pair of them, before he ruefully grins and hands both of them a mixed drink. Fili accepts the drink and toast that Ori offers with a happy grin. Despite the differences between them he’s always liked Ori.

                “How do you feel, being a man?” Ori asks with a wry grin.

                “I was always a man,” Kili answers with injured dignity. He drinks deeply and winces as the alcohol burns down his throat.

                Fili chuckles as he sips his own drink. “You might have a little way to go,” he teases and easily ducks the punch which Kili throws at him.

                “Come on, you’re helping me move all of my precious possessions into my bedroom,” Ori announces as Fili grinds his finished cigarette underfoot. Kili moans and Ori gives him a look spookily reminiscent of their uncle Thorin. “I agreed to let you have your party in my house—you agreed to protect all of my irreplaceable artifacts and clean up the next morning.”

                “Fine, fine,” Kili grumbles, making a face as he polishes off the rest of his drink. “Let’s go.”

                Despite his seeming foul mood Kili throws an arm around Fili’s shoulders as they follow Ori inside and start to move vases, pictures, and even a betta tank upstairs. “This is gonna be a good night!” Kili promises, with a wide smile.

 

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

 

                And despite the reservations which arose when Kili first proposed the idea of an eighteenth birthday party to him, Fili has to admit that it is a good night, even if it does have a rocky start. The happy squeals when Kili’s friends first see him are enough to burst his eardrums and Fili retreats to the relative sanctuary of the kitchen, grateful for Ori’s company. When he’s alone with Kili the five years’ difference melts away until all that’s left is them, but when Kili’s with his friends Fili feels damn near ancient.

                Once several of Ori’s friends arrive, along with some of Kili’s previously graduated friends, he feels ready to venture forth again. Bodies clutter Ori’s living room and red Solo cups are in great fashion. The law-abiding part of Fili squirms uncomfortably as he notes the massive amount of underage drinking occurring right underneath his nose but he comforts himself by thinking that as long as he’s here then he can keep an eye on Kili. He knows the trouble Kili’s capable of getting into when he’s by himself.

                The copious amount of rum and coke he downs helps to calm the nagging little voice of responsibility in him, reducing all of his worries and cares to his most simple of concerns: look after Kili. He can do that. He’s been doing that all his life.

                Fili casts a wry eye upwards as the object of his scrutiny flops down onto the arm of the easy-chair he occupies. “Hey there big bro,” Kili slurs, giggling as he leans backwards. He wobbles and Fili yanks at the collar of Kili’s shirt to keep him from tumbling to the floor. Drunkenness makes him unable to judge how much strength to use and Fili accidentally overcompensates. He ends up dragging Kili into his lap and his younger brother happily sprawls over him.

                “You’re the best,” Kili slurs at him, grinning stupidly as he pats Fili awkwardly atop the head. Fili rolls his eyes and Kili takes offense at that, flailing in his lap until he’s in a position which could be construed as sitting upright. “No, I mean it,” Kili stubbornly insists as he leans close enough  that his dark chocolate eyes cross for a moment as he tries to stare him down. “You’re the best brother ever.”

                “You’re just saying that because you’re drunk, but thanks all the same,” Fili sighs, before giving Kili a little shove. “Now get off. People are looking.”

                “So?” Kili asks. His features arrange themselves into his patented spoilt brat look—the pinched, pissy expression he always gets when something doesn’t go his way. “It’s my birthday, so I can do what I want to.”

                “Good reasoning.” Fili rolls his eyes again as Kili flops against him, head pillowed on his chest. Kili’s always been physically affectionate to the point of raised eyebrows and being drunk just exacerbates the issue.

                “See? I’m brilliant. Best brother ever.” Kili sounds pleased with himself and Fili doesn’t have the heart to correct him. He lets Kili sprawl over his lap and huffs at a few wisps of Kili’s hair which curl away from his ponytail. One of Kili’s favorite songs comes on and he hums off-tune to the chorus.

                The sounds of the party rage around them, laughs, music, clapping and even the crash of something breaking—Fili winces to think of Ori’s reaction—but a deep comfort settles in Fili’s body as Kili slumps further against him. By now the brunette’s practically boneless and little more than dead weight. Even if Fili wanted to move him he couldn’t, at least not without a long struggle—and if he’s perfectly honest with himself he doesn’t think that it’s worth the fight. Sometimes he feels like he can’t relax unless he can see Kili, affirm for himself that his baby brother’s safe and in one piece—and having Kili close just makes everything so much easier.

                Kili pats him on the chest and even though he _knows_ that he should just shove his little brother off of him and go get another drink, Fili just smiles indulgently down at him. “Think ‘m drunk,” Kili mumbles and Fili laughs, his mirth only growing louder when Kili glares at him.

                “You think?” Fili finally chuckles. Warmth glows in his chest, the feeling he associates with hot chocolate on a cold morning, basking in afternoon sunlight through a window, the comfort of family and love—With a loud sigh Kili droops and his skull connects harshly with Fili’s shoulder. “Careful,” Fili absently warns, brushing a strand of dark hair away from Kili’s face. Kili groans something unintelligible and shoves his face into the crook of Fili’s neck and shoulder. The tip of his nose brushes the side of Fili’s neck and Fili shivers as Kili’s exhalation hits his skin. The soft warmth suddenly gains a brighter, more dangerous edge to it—now it’s like fireworks on a hot summer night, the sharp cologne of the first boy he kissed, the burn and crackle of the first joint he ever lit.

                “Fili?” Kili mumbles and Fili squirms as Kili presses the tip of his nose further into the freshly shaved skin on Fili’s neck. Fili swallows as a shudder threatens to shake his whole body, the strength of the motion in direct correlation to Kili’s nose pressed into his neck, Kili’s breath against his skin, it feels like there’s no part of him that Kili isn’t in contact with in some way—

                “We’ve been looking everywhere for you!” At the sound of the female voice Kili pulls away and Fili inhales deep through his nose. It feels like surfacing from a deep dive, the top of his head breaking water and his lungs greedily sucking in fresh oxygen. It’s exactly what he needed and yet…It feels like being woken up with an air-horn or jumping into a cold shower. Fili’s whole body prickles at the intrusion and he immediately resents the two giggling girls which stare down at Kili.

                Kili twists in his lap as he blearily stares at the two. “I’ve been here,” he tells them, as though that should have been obvious.

                “Well come dance with us!” The order comes from a tall brunette dressed in a sparkly tank top and black skinny jeans. Her companion, a short blonde in a deep V-neck top and mini-skirt nods her head.

                “Bring your brother,” the blonde suggests, her cheeks flaming as she glances towards Fili. “Hi Fili,” she adds as an afterthought, batting her eyelashes at him.

                “All right,” Kili easily agrees. With sudden, unforeseen grace, Kili easily removes himself from Fili’s lap and Fili wonders at the grief he feels at the loss. He doesn’t have much time to wonder, however, as Kili’s hand yanks at his wrist, tugging him to his feet. “Less think. More dance,” Kili imperiously commands as he leads them into the crush of bodies in the living room.

                Fili tries to shout a protest over the pounding bass but his voice gets swallowed up in the general revelry. Besides, Kili wouldn’t listen to him anyway. As if he’s already anticipating an escape attempt, Kili keeps his iron grip on Fili’s wrist until they’re standing in what seems to be the middle of the dancing group, bodies writhing around him.

                “Dance,” Kili orders him, even as the tall brunette presses herself up against him. “Have fun.” Fili glares as the blonde comes up to him, grinning as she twirls a strand of hair around her finger.

                “Hi Fili,” she says as she runs her hands up his chest to his shoulders. She starts to sway against him, her hands urging him to move with her. “Do you remember me?”

                His brain struggles to function, hampered by the haze of alcohol working through his system. He finally places her, “Celeste,” he says, and the blonde grins delightedly at him. “You graduated…a year ago?”

                “Two,” Celeste breathily answers, pushing herself up and into him, her hips slotting into his. Well then. At least he’s some lesser version of a cradle-robber, Fili thinks, as he places his hands on her hips—just for balance, he tells himself.

                Over the top of Celeste’s head, Kili catches his eye and throws him a shit-eating grin. And even though Fili knows that he’s playing directly into Kili’s hands, that this is what Kili wants, he can’t help but rise to the challenge, pulling Celeste closer to his body, his hands sliding from her hips to her lower back, fingertips just brushing the top of her ass. Kili smirks at him before the tall brunette claims his full attention.

                “You know,” Celeste whispers as she leans up into him, “I had the _biggest_ crush on you when we were in school together.”

                “Yeah?” Fili asks, because he can’t think of anything else to say. He remembers the little giggles and whispers which would follow him through the halls of their high school, remembers quite well. He also remembers the rowdy, pounding thumps from members of his soccer team and martial arts clubs, and the hot, shameful twist of his stomach which would accompany each one. That was ancient history though, as far as he’s concerned, and he likes to think that he’s quite comfortable in his own skin. And right now, with the petite blonde pushing her body into his and the alcohol pulsing through his veins, he’s _very_ comfortable in his skin indeed.

                “Yes,” Celeste whispers as she stares at him with glassy eyes. Shifting in her awkwardly intense gaze, Fili shifts and his eyes sweep around the room. He stops when he sees the couple dancing next to him.

                He’s known in the back of his mind that since this is Kili’s eighteenth birthday his baby brother is technically no longer a baby, but right now, the sight of Kili with the brunette just brings that fact home. They sway together, the brunette’s back pressed tightly to Kili’s chest, her hands reaching backwards and tangling in Kili’s falling ponytail. Kili presses his face into the long arch of her neck, lips moving over her skin as his hands press against her lower abdomen, the tips of his fingers daringly slipping below the waistband of her jeans.

                Fili shifts uncomfortably, unable to tear his eyes away, even though he desperately wants to. When did Kili become so…( _virile_ his mind suggests) adult? A hot… _something_ crawls through him as he watches Kili’s hips undulate into the girl and Fili bites his lip as his innards twist like a towel being wrung out. For a second he wants nothing more than to pluck Kili out of the brunette’s grasp but it’s obvious to him that Kili wouldn’t exactly thank him for it. Besides, Kili’s an adult now and it’s not his place to interfere in his brother’s sex life. Fili tells himself this, even as he keeps staring at Kili.

                His stomach boils when Kili’s hair finally escapes from its ponytail and the dark curtain swings across Kili’s face, blocking it from view.

                Only the feel of hands crawling up and down his chest brings Fili’s attention back to the girl in front of him. “Don’t worry,” Celeste confides in a stage whisper, “Meg’ll take good care of him.” Fili’s brow furrows and he wants to tell her that he’s not worried about Kili, he doesn’t know quite _what_ he is, but he’s sure worry enters nowhere into the equation, but the small yet determined hand on the back of his neck pulling him down stops that train of thought in its tracks.

                Celeste’s lips are soft and slick underneath his and the sweet, fruity taste of her lip gloss coats his tongue as her lower lip finds its way into his mouth. Her lips part underneath his and he’s bombarded by the heady mixture of strawberries and vodka. It’s not a bad taste and best of all, the twist and burn of his innards eases underneath the kiss until it’s little more than an uncomfortable nagging in the back of his mind.

                At least until Celeste abruptly pulls away from him. Fili blinks slowly as his brain finally processes all current events—he was kissing someone and then suddenly, he was not. Celeste’s attention has been stolen by Kili’s leggy brunette, who whispers conspiratorially in her ear. Celeste looks at him and hides her giggle behind her hand as her cheeks flame. Fili just looks stupidly at her and tries to ignore the suspicion that he’s been had.

                “I, ah…asked them if they would um…entertain each other.” Kili’s voice rumbles in his ear and inexplicably, Fili tenses at his brother’s proximity. It only grows worse when Kili’s archery strong fingers clamp down on his biceps, holding him in place as the two girls start to dance with each other in front of him. Even though Fili’s eyes watch them twine sensuously around each other, his attention still darts to the press of Kili against him, as his brother slides from his side to behind him.

                “It’s good, right?” Kili asks and Fili nods as he tries to concentrate on how the brunette’s hands rest on Celeste’s trim waist, instead of how Kili’s chin grazes against his temple. The whole situation is horrifically awkward and strange—it’s like he’s trapped in a movie and everyone knows the plot but him.

                “Stop that,” Kili orders, giving him a little shake.

                “What?” Fili asks, not bothering to look behind him.

                “My birthday,” Kili answers. He releases Fili’s upper arms but Fili can still feel his touch through the material of his shirt—he’s convinced if he rolled his sleeves up, Kili’s fingertips would be emblazoned on his skin, bright red and accusatory, though he doesn’t know yet what sin he’s committed. “You’re supposed to have fun on my birthday.”

                “Didn’t know that rule applied to me as well,” Fili says, just before Kili’s blazing touch presses against his waist. His muscles shiver and twitch at the contact and Fili would swear that if anyone was looking hard enough they could see his pulse beating in his throat.

                “Because you’re stupid.” Kili’s hands push gently at him and there’s the sway of a body behind him. Woozy—all the alcohol must finally be hitting his system, there’s no other explanation—Fili surrenders and lets Kili guide him into moving along with the music. His brother’s tall, lithe body brushes against his back and without words or even much effort, they fall into an easy rhythm.

                It’s nice, Fili helplessly thinks, the thoughtless push and pull of dancing with Kili, and he thinks about whenever he and Kili would team up for sports—they were always unbeatable, the two of them seamlessly anticipating the other’s move and coordinating their own to match. This is like that, only more, because that stupid _feeling_ is back, the ache and the burn, and a delicious, terrified squirming—Fireworks and stolen kisses when he’s supposed to be studying, his first drink stolen from his uncle’s liquor cabinet—Fili closes his eyes and relaxes back into Kili, his back fitting easily against his brother’s chest. Kili’s arm snakes around his collarbone and holds him firmly in place and Fili sighs in happiness—

                Just before he realizes what the _fuck_ he’s doing and pulls away to stare, scandalized, at Kili, who has the audacity to look surprised. “Jesus Christ!” Fili hisses. “What the fuck…Kili….” Kili flinches from his tone, his face falling and lips taking the little pout that they turn to when one of his half-brained plans fails.

                For a moment Fili actually considers giving into Kili, just to get that hangdog look off of his face—But…fuck! Dancing next to Kili is one thing, having his brother arrange a little show for him is actually considerate as far as Kili goes, but a bump and grind on the dance floor? “I need a drink,” Fili answers and stomps off to the kitchen. He leaves too swiftly for Kili to follow him and for once, he’s glad of it.

                He finds Ori leaning against his kitchen counter, laughing with a cute girl in a ponytail. She seems happy with his cousin and Fili almost feels bad about interrupting them but he’s just had a hell of a weird night. Ori takes one look at him and whispers something to the girl—she nods, takes his phone and punches several buttons before handing it back to him with a shy smile. Ori watches her leave before he turns his attention to Fili.

                “Problem?” he asks mildly, pushing his glasses back up to the bridge of his nose.

                Fili looks down at the light golden rum in his glass—no more pussy mixing of drinks for him tonight, this requires straight liquor—and vehemently shakes his head before he tosses the shot back, wincing at the sour burn and tingle as the rum scorches its way down his throat. “Don’t want to talk about it,” Fili mumbles, pouring himself another shot.

                Ori’s eyebrows dip down into a steep dive but he doesn’t comment further as Fili shudders his way through another shot.

                “You’re a good cousin,” Fili mumbles, as he absently twirls his glass on the countertop.

                “Of that I am painfully aware,” Ori comments, rather severely, Fili thinks.

                He remains in the kitchen (he refuses to call it hiding) for several more hours, and Ori, the wonderful soul that he is, stays with him as Fili steadily becomes more and more inebriated. Not that Ori is wholly innocent— his cousin begins a series of gin rummy games, with the loser bartering off their physical labor. By the end of the fourth game, Fili’s fairly certain he’s now washing Ori’s car, cleaning his gutters, mowing his lawn for a month and possibly painting his spare bedroom. He’s fuzzy on the last one.

                “Everything seems to be quieting down,” Ori finally comments after he glances out of the kitchen towards the ruined shreds of his living room. “Just a few stragglers left.”

                Fili grunts as he rubs a palm over his forehead. “Good.” His head suddenly feels too heavy to lift and he rests it on the cool surface of Ori’s kitchen table. The wood grain looks magnificent from this angle. How has he never admired this facet of the table before?

                “At least Kili had a good night,” he hears Ori say, the words sinking into his brain through a layer of cellophane wrapped around his head. “Where is he by the way? Don’t see him out there.”

                It takes a moment for the full impact of Ori’s words to hit, but when it does, Fili jolts upright, dizzy apprehension dancing through his system. “What do you mean he’s not out there?” The words come out mangled and slurred, but it’s enough for Ori to understand him.

                “I mean, he’s not in the living room,” Ori answers, his eyes widening as Fili totters past him and checks the deserted room for himself. All he sees are a few couples in various semi-compromising positions and a little group of people who seem to be discussing the finer points of philosophy. He checks the hair color of each of the couples—none have Kili’s hair, which he can pick out at a distance of about a hundred yards.

                “I need to find him,” Fili mumbles as he shoves his way past Ori.

                “He’s fine, he’s probably just upstairs sleeping it off,” Ori calls after him as Fili unsteadily lurches up the stairs. He hears Ori’s words and in some part of his brain they make sense, but Ori doesn’t knowhow much trouble Kili’s capable of finding, how much trouble Kili’s capable of creating. As he searches and comes up empty, Fili heartily regrets his decision to let Kili out of his sight.

                He checks the main bathroom, winces at the foul smell emanating from the room, and leaves. The spare bedroom he closes quickly—how these couples manage to find their way in closed doors is beyond him, but he doesn’t really care. He still can’t find Kili.

                The master bedroom is last. His unsteady feet shuffle into the room as he fumbles for the lightswitch. The floor lamp flares into life with a soft, muted glow. At least there aren’t any naked people in this room. Ori would have a damn fit.

                “Kili?” Fili calls into the silence of the room. A low groan sounds to his left at the same time as Fili notices the light seeping out from underneath the bathroom door. With three steps Fili crosses the room and shoves the door open. He slumps in relief against the doorframe as his eyes fall on a familiar pair of boots.

                His younger brother curls around the toilet, his cheek resting against the seat. Fili wrinkles his nose and bottles the urge to tell Kili how unsanitary that is and kneels beside him instead. He concentrates on pushing away the unsteady wobbling of his hand as he reaches out and rakes his fingers through Kili’s hair. Kili groans in response as he weakly shoves his head into Fili’s touch.

                “Fili,” he whines, eyes fluttering open and slowly focusing. “Don’t feel good.”

                “I know,” Fili murmurs, his thumb sweeping over Kili’s sweaty forehead. “Think you can get up?”

                “Don’t want to,” Kili petulantly argues as his arms encircle the toilet in a pathetic hug.

                “You’ll feel better once you lay down,” Fili assures him, his left hand rubbing gently over his shoulders. “Come on, get up.”

                Kili moans in protest but his legs curl underneath him and he manages to push himself into a kneeling position. It’s as far as he gets before horrified desperation crosses his face and Kili places his head directly over the bowl. His fingers spastically clutch at the edges of the bowl and Fili has just enough time to gather Kili’s hair in his hands before Kili’s body shudders. Fili turns his head away, fighting the drunken nausea which rises in his throat as the wet sound of vomit splashing against the water reaches his ears.

                “Get it all out, that’s it,” Fili offers as Kili heaves once more.

                After a few coughs and shakes, Kili slumps once more, his face now positively waxen. Fili murmurs soothingly to him, combing through the dark brown hair and rubbing gently at his shoulders. “Sorry,” Kili whimpers, voice little more than a strangled whisper. “I’m sorry.”

                “It’s ok,” Fili replies, his hands hooking underneath Kili’s armpits. Kili’s feet kick out before they find purchase on the floor. Together they lurch to their feet and Kili dangerously sways before Fili loops an arm around his shoulders. “Come on,” Fili mumbles as he walks them towards the sink, wondering why he’s taking care of Kili when he’s just as drunk.

                He wrenches open the tap and cool water hits the edges of the sink. Kili cups his hands and splashes the water in his face, shivering at the feel of droplets running down his skin. Fili stands by his side, offering what comfort he can give in a soft touch. He passes a full cup towards Kili, who gratefully drinks. Water drips out of the corner of his mouth and transfers to Fili’s shirt as Kili rests his head on his shoulder.

                “I’m sorry,” Kili whimpers once more. He doesn’t resist as Fili walks them out of the bathroom and into Ori’s bedroom. With hands on his brother’s shoulders, Fili sits him on the edge of the bed, only to have Kili fall backwards once he lets go. Fili rolls his eyes and sits down next to him. After a few moments his own head starts to spin and suddenly, lying down seems like a wonderful idea.

                Fili stares at the ceiling fan and watches its blades lazily spin before Kili’s weak whisper reaches his ears. “I really am sorry.”

                With immense effort, Fili turns his head so that he’s facing Kili, who stares at him through half-lidded eyes. “What for?”

                “For everything,” Kili answers and Fili rolls his eyes at the answer, so typically melodramatic. With a high, frustrated noise, Kili shoves at his shoulder and Fili grunts in displeasure as his head is jostled far too much for his liking.

                “Because, I’m drunk and gross and I just barfed everywhere and you have to take care of me again and I’m sorry… _fuck,_ I’m drunk,” Kili groans and curls into Fili, his arm slung over his older brother’s abdomen as his face pushes into his chest.

                “It’s fine,” Fili mumbles, patting Kili’s head with a heavy hand as he strains upward to look at his brother. Kili looks at him, chin resting just underneath his collarbone, huge brown eyes blinking guilelessly at him. Despite his earlier frustration, misgivings and anger, now it’s just _Kili_ here, not only his brother but his best friend, the person he trusts most in the world. The _something_ rears in him once more, the fireplace flickering on Christmas Eve, the dropping of his stomach on a roller coaster, huge movie explosions, the simple glow of a single sentence uttered by Kili.

                “I meant it earlier, you know, when I said that you were the best.”

                Later, Fili won’t know if whether it’s because of the alcohol or some long held sickness within him, but either way, at the time, it seems the most natural course of action to lean forward, close those sparse centimeters between them, and slot his lips against his brother’s.

                Thankfully, Kili does not taste like vomit.

                The contact is little more than a gentle press of flesh against flesh, until Kili tilts his head at just the right angle and his little brother’s full lower lip fits perfectly in between his own. Fili pushes up as Kili’s hands splay across his chest. His world spins once more and it seems as though his only anchor exists in the lips against his. Desperate to hold on, eager to grab a firmer hold, Fili runs the tip of his tongue over the chapped edge of Kili’s lip. Kili’s mouth opens underneath the hint and his tongue tentatively ventures forth. At the first touch Kili retreats, only for Fili to follow. With gentle coaxing touches, he urges Kili to explore and sparks flare into life in the pit of his stomach as Kili’s tongue curiously curls around his.

                After a few moments Kili pulls away with a soft laugh. He pats Fili’s chest as he burrows deeper into his older brother’s side. “You’re a good kisser,” Kili murmurs, head pillowed on Fili’s shoulder and his eyelashes already dark against his cheek.

                “Thanks,” Fili answers, thinking that maybe he should feel something else other than a rueful sort of pride. “You’re not half bad either.”

                Kili hums low in acknowledgement, though Fili can tell that he’s already half-asleep. He drags his eyes away from his brother’s slack, deceptively innocent face and looks at the ceiling fan, still lazily rotating. He watches through increasingly blurry eyes and he can’t mark the exact moment when he drifts off.

 

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

 

                The sound of the trash truck beeping down the street wakes him. Fili lifts his pounding head, wincing at the bright sunlight which beams directly on his already sore eyes. He tries to sit up, only to be stopped by a weight on his chest. He looks down and his heart stops.

                Kili’s head still lays on his chest, his hair spread wide like a thin blanket. His brother always looks so cherubic in sleep, his lips barely parted as a soft exhalation stirs a little bit of his hair. At Fili’s movement Kili’s features twist, only to smooth when Fili freezes.

                The events of the previous night hit Fili with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer and he bites down hard on his knuckle to stop a scream from tearing out of his throat. Tears spark to his eyes and he tastes the copper tang of his own blood as his teeth break skin. Through it all, Kili sleeps on, groaning as Fili helplessly stares at the rotating fan.

                He kissed his brother last night.

                And as he looks down at Kili’s sleeping face, so beautifully pure in the harsh morning light, all he wants is to kiss him again. 


	2. How do You Know When to Let Go?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A whole slew of goodbyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter, hooray! And I already answered this question on my tumblr, but in case anyone's still confused...
> 
> Fili and Kili are still 5 years apart. The majority of the story is going to take place just after Kili turns 18, which will put Fili at 23.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-              

                 

**Day 496**

Fili doesn’t sleep much that night.

The phone is scorching hot against his palm when he finally hangs up and his hand trembles as he searches empty jacket pockets for another cigarette. When he realizes that he smoked his last, Fili runs his hands through his shoulder-length hair and a sick, bubbling laugh escapes his throat. It sounds like he’s choking.

He walks the two blocks to the 24 hour gas station and mindlessly shoves a twenty across the counter as he mumbles his brand. The wide-eyed zombie of a clerk passes him the pack and Fili slaps the light box against the heel of his hand as she counts his change out. By the time he’s shoving the coins and bills in his back pocket he’s already got a cigarette dangling from his lips and lighter poised.

“No smoking,” the clerk reprimands him, the flat voice somehow sounding disapproving. Fili laughs, wild and deranged, as he leaves, the bell above the door clanging cheerily to announce his departure.

He smokes the whole pack that night, craving a comfort beyond what nicotine can give him. He does try to sleep but it’s useless, his body tossing and turning in the twisted embrace of his comforter. After an hour, his body aches and his mind still races, chewing over Kili’s words and his brother’s frantic sobs once he realized that there was no talking Fili out of his decision, not this time.

He cleans his small student apartment until it shines—dishes put away, floor spotless and bathroom gleaming and all he can think of is Kili’s voice, small and defeated, pleading with him, begging him _please no, don’t do this, I’m sorry_ …

Time for a different tactic. Fili sits on his couch with an open book in his lap, pen poised to make annotations as needed but his mind still filters back to the time when he wrote truly horrific poetry across Kili’s back in Sharpie. He’d refused to tell Kili what he’d scrawled on the canvas of his skin and Kili had demanded to know until Fili had finally distracted him the easiest way he knew how—with a searing kiss that left Kili grasping hungrily at him and chased away any excess thought. He remembers what he wrote though, has a picture of it on his phone just so he wouldn’t forget…

_Your love makes me a better man. When you smile at me I think I can do anything._

Fili snaps his book closed and hurls it across the room. It hits the opposite wall with a satisfying thud, the noise most likely waking his neighbor. The pages flutter as the book strikes the ground and Fili buries his face in his hands, shoulders shaking. He’s left a scuff mark on the wall. Why is it that everything he does, even if he’s only trying to do the right thing, becomes irrevocably fucked up?

He does end up dozing off to a rerun of a poker tournament, the commentary becoming slurred and garbled as his eyes drift shut. He wakes to the shrill ringing of his cellphone alarm as it merrily vibrates in his pocket. He fishes for the bane of his existence and swipes his alarm off. He’s already bringing up his messages and dashing off a quick _just woke up don’t miss your first class_ text to Kili. His thumb’s already halfway through the message when his brain catches up with his body. Cold rushes through him and Fili doubles over, arms around his stomach and he struggles just to breathe as last night’s conversation relentlessly plays through his memory.

He ended it.

_“Fili please, I’m sorry, I promise I won’t do it again please don’t do this, I’m sorry, please don’t I need you, please…”_

Hot tears trace a fiery path down his cheeks, warring with the cold sinking straight into his bones. He locks his phone, dismissing the half-finished text and drops the useless device to the floor. He curls on his couch and his eyes stare at the blaring TV without comprehending any of the images.

It’s over.

 

 

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

 

                “You look like death,” Bilbo Baggins comments to him as Fili slides into his seat next to him for their Business lecture.

                Fili would argue but from the glimpse he caught of himself in the bathroom mirror, he knows it’s true. Dark purple bruises lurk underneath his eyes, glaring evidence of his sleepless night. He couldn’t manage to even brush his hair out and settled for a stocking cap to hide the majority of his tangled mop. Instead of his usual polo or button-down he threw on a hoodie and the first pair of jeans he could find, which just so happened to be his weekend jeans—the ones with paint stains and both knees ripped out. Some people manage to wear those jeans like art. Fili just looks vaguely deranged.

                “Shitty night,” Fili mumbles as he slouches into his seat. Bilbo purses his lips but doesn’t pursue the topic, for which Fili is grateful. He really doesn’t think he could stand up to any sort of questioning and the idea of bursting into tears in front of Bilbo and his classmates is really just too much.

                The arrival of the professor ruins any further chance of interrogation and Fili concentrates all of his attention on the Powerpoint slides flashing before the room, even though he can feel Bilbo’s worried glances. When class ends Fili packs his things quickly and mumbles a goodbye to Bilbo. He stalks into the approaching evening, leaving the short, honey-haired man behind him.

                He’s always been the sole occupant of his university provided apartment but now it’s achingly empty, a gaping cavern. Kili’s missing—his brother’s voice usually accompanies him when he returns from classes, filling his ears and making his apartment seem livelier and well… _home._ Now, the walls just seem cold and bare and all of his belongings seem out of place, like nothing’s really right.

                His phone sinks heavily into his pocket. Nothing is really right.

                At least he doesn’t have work tonight. He’s not really sure if he could handle working through a shift at the bar, having to deal with people without falling apart. Going through classes was hard enough.

                On the counter, his phone buzzes with a new text message. Fili stares at it while his heart pounds hard against his ribs. _Kili?_ Finally he reaches out and swipes his thumb across the screen to reveal a text from Bilbo.

                _Made too many sweet rolls for just me. Want to come over and eat some?_

                A sad, twisted smile reaches Fili’s lips as his eyes scan the simple words. Bilbo’s a good friend. He quickly types out a reply.

                _You’re transparent. Thanks but no thanks. Just want to be alone for now._

He sets his phone to silent as he whips up a quick pasta dinner. He loses interest halfway through eating and leaves his plate sitting on his coffee table as he picks up the remote and flips through the channels, looking for some form of escapism. All the television offers him are sitcoms, sports and some baffling home shopping networks. He tries to work on a paper but all that comes out is meaningless drivel. He deletes the whole page he managed to scratch out and feels immensely satisfied with the destruction.

                Unbidden, his hand seeks out his phone. Possessed by a perverse need to _hurt_ , Fili looks at the long history of text messages between him and Kili. They’re inanities, the small comments between two people who don’t need words to communicate. A self-taken picture of Kili with his hair sleep tousled and a pouty look on his face with the caption _miss you wish you were here._ A simple text sent at three in the morning: _i know you’re awake go to sleep whatever it is can wait_. The last text from Kili: _will you just answer your goddamn phone and talk to me_

He looks at Kili’s profile underneath his contacts—the picture is innocent enough, one that Fili snapped when his brother was unaware. Kili’s face is turned towards him in a three-quarter profile, a bright, unassuming grin on his face as his eyes look slant towards Fili. His hand sweeps back his dark bangs from his face. Fili already knows what happens after the picture—Kili lunges forward with a pleased laugh and demands that Fili delete the picture. Kili uses his long arms to try to pluck the phone from him and Fili laughs as he easily twists and ducks out of his grasp. The picture survives and becomes the main image which Fili associates with his brother, even through the screaming and the sniping comments which swiftly grow vicious enough to draw blood. Now Kili’s easy smile cuts to the heart of him, and Fili’s fingers twitch, wanting nothing more than to touch Kili’s permanent five o’clock shadow.

                Kili’s information is fairly simple in his phone—his mobile number, parent’s address—he’s given Kili his own ringtone and text alert but that’s hardly noteworthy. What catches his eye is the small, innocuous blurb at the very end underneath the Notes section.

                _Loves Fili forever_

                Fili curls into a small ball on his couch and sobs.

 

 

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

 

**Day 2**

 

                When Fili stumbles down the stairs, lured by the scent of coffee brewing, he’s greeted with a positively murderous look from Ori. Fili blanches—obviously Ori had seen him and Kili together, curled up in his bed. He searches Ori’s eyes frantically, convinced that his actions are stamped on his forehead.

                “I’m sorry,” Fili mumbles, ducking his head and scuffing his feet along the floor. He finally looks up at Ori’s eyes.

                “Two months, you’re mowing my lawn,” Ori severely tells him, passing a mug over. Fili inhales deeply, the scent reaching into the crevices of his brain and relaxing the tension bunched in his neck and shoulders. The first sip is blissful, bitter hotness flooding his palate and sparking his brain. Good to know that he can still take pleasure in the simple joys of life.

                His comfort lasts until he hears the sound of feet lurching down the stairs. Kili’s stomps into the kitchen, his nose wrinkling at the mug Ori offers him. “Gross,” Kili mumbles as he searches Ori’s refrigerator. He eventually comes up with a half-empty orange juice and pours the remainder into a cup. Fili’s at least grateful that he didn’t drink straight from the carton.

                “Got a lot to clean,” Kili comments, wiping his mouth clean with the back of his hand. He meets Fili’s eyes for a second and quickly ducks his head, expression unreadable.

                “Indeed,” Ori agrees. He and Fili finish their coffee and Ori assigns them separate rooms to tidy. Fili thinks that it’s a sign of his cousin’s well-hidden sadism that he gets the bathroom and spare bedroom—the two places he least wanted to clean. He’s grateful of one small favor—cleaning the bathroom and spare bedroom puts him upstairs and away from Kili. He gathers up his courage and dives in.

                It’s not quite as bad as he originally thought. It’s mostly trash and the sheets will definitely have to be changed but there’s no obvious bacterium lurking and waiting to devour him. He might gag a little when he’s taking the sheets and blankets off of the bed but he won’t tell.

                It’s an hour later when he finally sees Kili. He’s not in the most dignified position to be greeting a visitor—ass in the air, scrubbing at where someone thought it was a wonderful idea to draw all over Ori’s shower floor. The sound of the door being kicked makes Fili turn around and his heart jumps forward even as his stomach drops.

                Kili’s changed out of the clothes he was wearing yesterday—he’s replaced the tight jeans with his favored cargo shorts and his black button down with a faded Sex Pistols t-shirt. He looks sloppier and grubbier than he did last night and instead of soppy and loving he looks grumpy and mutinous.

                Fili still wants to kiss him.

                He wants to take his brother’s stubbly cheeks in his hands, close the inches which separate them and taste him again, tease his tongue into playing with him. He has a suspicion that Kili’s not normally a submissive kisser and he wants to find out if his suspicions are true. He wants to feel Kili’s soft hair against his fingers, wants to twine his tongue through the small hoops adorning both of his lobes and pull, hear Kili’s whine—

                “Can you leave? I have to piss.” Fili flinches at the sharp tone in Kili’s voice as horror slowly floods his body. What the _fuck...what the fuck_ is he thinking? This is Kili, little baby Kili, who used to tag after him and scowl furiously at him when Fili said that he wasn’t allowed to play with him. It’s little Kee, who brought him the first tooth he lost, proudly clutching his bloody prize as he flashed his now-gap toothed grin. It’s Kili, baby no longer, whose shirt stretches across broad shoulders, who scratches at his scalp with absurdly long fingers.

                “Go use the one in the bedroom,” Fili grumbles, fiddling with the brush in his hands to avoid having to look directly at Kili. “I’m cleaning this one.”

                “Don’t want to use that one,” Kili protests. Fili rolls his eyes and suppresses the urge to drag Kili out of the room by the scruff of his neck. He doesn’t trust himself to touch Kili at this point, and isn’t that just sick?

                “Fine,” Fili finally spits when Kili gives no sign of relenting. He goes to stalk out of the bathroom, only to find his path blocked by Kili. “Make up your damn mind would you?” Fili growls as he glares up at Kili.

                “Look ,don’t make it a thing, all right?” Kili asks him, his voice low and earnest. Fili’s tries to keep his pace impassive as he looks at Kili. His last, feeble hope, that Kili didn’t remember last night, disappears as he looks into the knowledgeable dark eyes.

                “It is—“ Fili begins before Kili interrupts him.

                “It’s really not. Look, I’m sorry...I don’t know what the fuck happened. I just...I got really drunk and kissed you. And I know you, and I know exactly what you’re doing...just don’t...don’t make this a _thing_ all right?”

                Fili can only mouth up at his brother for a moment. Kili thinks that he’s the one who initiated? He might have been blazing drunk but he distinctly remembers pushing forward until his lips connected with Kili’s, remembers how Kili’s lips felt underneath his tongue, how easily his little brother’s lips parted for him...

                “Sorry,” Fili finally mumbles. “I just...” With an airy wave of his hand which is at odds with the intense, slightly pained expression on his face, Kili dismisses his feebly voiced concerns.

                “Don’t worry about it Fili, really. I’m sorry...just promise me that you won’t beat yourself up over it?”

                “Yeah, all right,” Fili finally says. He looks up at Kili, unsure, and his little brother awkwardly shifts his weight as they stare at each other.

                “Seriously,” Kili says as he picks at his cuticles, focusing all of his attention on them instead of Fili. “Don’t...Look it’s stupid for both of us to get our panties in a twist over this. So don’t all right? I don’t...” Kili sighs and casts his eyes up to the ceiling, like he hopes he’ll find the words painted there. “I don’t want _us_ to be fucked up by this.”

                “We won’t be,” Fili promises, even though the words sound empty to his ears. He reaches out for Kili and his fingers brush the smooth warm skin of his brother’s wrist. The contact is fleeting and leaves him feeling bereft at the lack of comfort he receives. “You won’t get rid of me that easily, brat.”

                Kili smiles at him, a hint of his swagger returning as he pushes Fili. “Don’t call me a brat, jerk.” Fili smiles but the expression doesn’t feel quite like it fits on his face. “Besides, you know that you’re helpless without me.”

                “Yeah,” Fili scoffs, as he finally shoves past Kili to escape into the hallway. He needs to be out of the room, needs to get away where he can breathe. _Sick bastard,_ vicious little voices in his head whisper. What the fuck is wrong with him? “Completely helpless without you,” he manages, before Kili shuts the door.

                Fili stares at the simple door, wondering at the brief contortion of Kili’s face just before the door separated them. His fingernails dig deep into his palms and he leans back against the wall, taking deep breaths as he tries to calm himself. _Sick, perverted bastard,_ he hears voices call him, _what the fuck is wrong with you, you want your brother, that’s sick..._

                “You all right up there?” Ori’s voice drifts up from downstairs.

                “Yeah, we’re fine,” Fili answers. 

                Whatever he is, it’s a far cry from _fine._

 

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

 

 

**Day –1195**

Normally he wouldn’t do this at home but he doesn’t really have anywhere else to go, not that he wants to. He rests the joint lightly on his lip and lights it, the thick paper lighting and flaring. Fili draws a deep breath in, the harsh smoke tickling his nose and throat. He fights the immediate cough which threatens and slowly exhales, carefully scooting further away from the window. His bare feet grip the rough shingles of the roof as he cranes his head back to look at the stars.

                Since he was a child he’s always come out here to think—his bedroom window opens up to a flat part of the roof and it quickly became his sanctuary. Since he crossed the fragile threshold into questionable adulthood, he’s used the roof for slightly more nefarious purposes.

                “Mom’s going to be pissed if she figures out what you’re doing.”

                Fili doesn’t look at his fifteen year old brother, hoping that he’ll take the hint and go away. Instead he hears the distinctive sounds of Kili clambering through the window and cautiously making his way across the roof to sit beside him. “I said, Mom’s going to be pissed—“

                “I heard what you said,” Fili snaps as he blows another long breath of smoke out. “That’s if she finds out and she’s not going to unless someone goes and runs his mouth to her.”

                He looks to his side to see Kili staring at him with wide brown eyes. His brother’s chin rests on his knees and his arms hug his legs close to his chest.  His chin-length dark hair messily falls around his face and Kili absently huffs at a few strands before he glowers. “I won’t tell,” Kili huffs.

                Fili grunts in response, taking another deep drag of the joint. Warmth settles against his side as Kili leans against him, wrinkling his nose as the smell reaches him. “Can I?” Kili asks him, already reaching for the joint.

                “No!” Fili snaps, yanking the blunt away and holding it with his opposite hand. Beside him, Kili tries to reach across Fili, only to be batted away by the elder.

                “Why not?” Kili whines, curling back into himself. “You’re doing it.”

                “That’s different,” Fili answers, glancing down to make sure that the cherry hasn't fallen. He might not be the best of brothers but he’s sure as hell not going to let his little brother experiment with drugs on his watch.

                “Fili, please,” Kili begs as he butts his head into Fili’s upper arm. It’s a mistake to look down at Kili, with his huge chocolate eyes wide and pleading and just a hint of a tremble in his lower lip. He’s being played like a two-string banjo and Fili knows it, yet he still brings the joint up. Before he hands it over he pauses.

                “If you tell Mom then I swear I’ll break your fingers,” he warns. Kili nods, too concentrated on the glowing stick in his brother’s hand. Fili passes it over, careful to avoid burning either of their fingers. Kili awkwardly holds it between his thumb and forefinger and turns his hand to either side, considering.

                “Just put it to your lips and inhale,” Fili tells him, after Kili glances questioningly at him. Kili obeys, his brow furrowing in concentration as he sucks in, his cheeks hollowing.

                Almost immediately Kili starts coughing, violent, racking hacks which shake his whole body. Smoke escapes in thin trickles from his nose and mouth as Kili tries to hold his breath.

                “Just breathe for fuck’s sake.” Fili slaps Kili on the back, easily plucking the blunt from his brother’s fingers. Kili inhales in a huge gulp and glares at Fili, his eyes tearing up.

                “Jesus Christ, no thank you,” he finally says, through tiny lingering coughs. Fili tries to hide a smile but fails miserably and Kili unkindly pinches his ankle.

                “Stop that, brat,” Fili reprimands as he takes another deep inhale. The drug works on his body, giving him a heavy, languid feel. He can almost forget what drove him out here in the first place, but Kili’s horribly timed question brings it all back.

                “What’s wrong anyway?”

                The joint finished, Fili crushes the last bit of ashes out and tosses the finished butt into the gutter. “Nothing’s wrong,” he mumbles, picking at a stray piece of shingle.

                “Bullshit,” Kili scoffs, shoving his shoulder into Fili’s side. “You only smoke out here when something’s really bothered you.”

                “Leave it alone Kili,” Fili warns, changing his focus from the shingle to the threadbare cuff of his jeans.

                “What happened Fee?” Kili quietly asks, his head resting on Fili’s upper arm. “Something at work? One of uncle’s lackeys get under your skin again?”

                “I don’t want to fucking talk about it Kili!” Fili finally snaps, jerking away from his brother. Forgetting to be careful, he stands up and stalks around Kili. He slides back into his bedroom and throws himself face-down on his bed. His breath comes hot and strained against his mattress but he doesn’t move his head. Perhaps he’ll suffocate himself and save the whole world a lot of trouble.

                Of course that’s not going to happen because he’s forgotten that Kili needs to go through his bedroom in order to get back into the house. And while Kili might be scatter-brained and irresponsible, he’s not going to walk past his big brother slowly smothering himself to death without saying anything.

                “Fee, talk to me, please,” Kili asks, his voice small and hurt. Great. Just what he needs: to feel like an asshole on top of everything else.

                “Go away,” Fili mumbles into his mattress. Kili starts talking but Fili presses his pillow overtop his head so that his brother’s words are muffled beyond all comprehension.

                The pillow is unceremoniously yanked away from his grasp and cool air hits his face as Kili pushes and prods at him. “C’mon Fee,” Kili goads, grunting as he tries to roll his dead-weight body over. Fili goes limp, letting Kili work himself into a state of exhaustion. It’s not his most brilliant manuever—it leaves him uncomfortably contorted with his spine bent into a curve which normal humans are not supposed to sustain for long periods. Sighing with defeat, Fili pushes himself up and leans against the headboard. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Kili tuck his legs underneath him and rest his chin on his fist. From his brother’s position, Fili can guess that Kili’s settled in for the long wait and he’s just postponing the inevitable. It still doesn’t mean that he has to be happy about it.

                “Noah and I broke up.”

                “Good,” Kili immediately replies, and that’s definitely not the response that Fili wanted. “He was an asshole.”

                “Go away,” Fili mumbles, even though he knows that the odds of Kili obeying are slim to none.

                “I’m sorry Fee, but he was. Always treating me like an idiot who couldn’t put his damn shoes on the right way, always thinking that he was some real hot-shot because he got a scholarship to College of Laketown—you were twice as smart as he was, you got into Rivendell University, but I bet you never told him that...”

                “Stuff it Kili. It doesn’t matter anymore, all right? We’re done.” Kili opens his mouth again and Fili rubs absently over his chest and swears that he can feel his bruised heart still valiantly beating underneath the skin. “And...I love...I _loved_ Noah,” Fili corrects himself with a heavy heart. “So stop talking shit about him.”

                “Sorry,” Kili offers, and Fili blinks in surprise as Kili looks contemplatively at him. “Why’d he break up with you?”

                A fresh bolt of pain lances through him at Kili’s words. “Christ Kili, you can be a little asshole sometimes, you know that?” Fili hisses, inhaling deep through his nose as the blurriness of unshed tears begins to obstruct his vision. _Don’t blink_ , Fili orders himself. “What makes you think that he broke up with me?”

                “Because you don’t break up with people that you love,” Kili answers as though it’s the simplest thing in the world. He creeps closer to Fili and this time when he lays his head down on Fili’s shoulder, Fili allows it to stay. He actually gets a vague sort of comfort from the physical contact, the familiar scent of Kili’s shampoo soothing with its banality. Kili stretches out next to him, and Fili idly notes how his fifteen year old brother is already threatening to grow taller than him.

                Fili sighs and absently scratches the base of Kili’s skull. Kili rubs his face into his shoulder, like an overgrown cat. The corners of Fili’s lips twitch upward. At least there’s still something that he’s good at.

                “What happened Fee?” Kili asks, proving that perhaps his attention span isn’t as short as his teachers claim.

                Fili sighs and his hand goes from scratching Kili’s scalp to resting lifelessly behind his brother. He hopes that Kili will tire and pick another topic, but his brother seems relentlessly determined to hear the full depths of his pain.

                “He said...he said that if he wanted to date a dad then he would have at least gone for a guy who had little kids,” Fili finally admits, reliving the painful conversation. He’d had to leave sooner than Noah had anticipated—Kili’s practice with his archery coach was over and their mother was too busy at the office with their uncle Thorin to pick him up, so that task had fallen to Fili. He’d tried explaining that to Noah, tried telling him that it was his little brother for fuck’s sake, and he had to pick him up, otherwise he would be left at the gym with no one, but Noah hadn’t heard a word. He was tired, he’d said, fed up with Fili having to cut dates short because Kili called or because Fili needed to go home and watch Kili.

                “Christ ‘Li,” Noah had said, leaning against the passenger window of Fili’s car, “I know that you feel like you have to do this but the kid’s fifteen years old...that’s old enough to find a ride home with someone or call a cab, or something. You don’t have to be at your family’s beck and call every single second.”

                “You don’t get it,” Fili had answered helplessly, picking at the short hairs of his goatee. He looked over at Noah, the first man he’d ever fallen in love with, and shook his head. “It’s Kili...I have to...There’s no one else to look after him, not after Dad...”

                “Fili, I know,” Noah answered, reaching over the console and taking Fili’s hand. “But sooner or later the kid’s got to have the apron strings cut. You can’t be looking out for your brother for the rest of his life.”

                Kili’s soft squeak brings Fili’s attention back to the present. His little brother looks up at him with wide, questioning eyes as he sucks his lower lip into his mouth. Fili sighs, the sound defeated as well as affectionate, and he ruffles his brother’s dark hair.

                “So...he broke up with you because of me?” Kili asks. His left arm tightens over Fili’s torso, just skirting the point of too tight.

                With a slow exhalation Fili rests his cheek against the top of Kili’s head as he tightens his arm around his brother’s slender frame. “No,” he finally says, closing his eyes as he remembers how he gripped the steering wheel with both hands, unable to look at Noah’s stricken face. “I broke up with him because of you.”

                When Kili’s arms tighten around him this time, it feels as though his little brother is trying to crack his ribs with the force of his embrace. Kili presses his face into Fili’s shoulder and Fili tries to return the crushing pressure of his hug.

                “I’m sorry,” Kili apologizes. “I’m sorry.”

                “It’s all right,” Fili answers, idly twirling the ends of Kili’s hair between his fingers.

                Kili looks up, his face uncomfortably close. Fili can smell the cinnamon gum that Kili favors as Kili speaks. “Love you,” Kili tells him and sometimes Fili doesn’t know how his little brother can still exhibit such childish honesty and faith. “I won’t ever make you choose between someone you’re dating and me.”

                “Yeah, I know,” Fili answers, tucking Kili’s head on his chest so that he can rest his chin on the soft pillow of his brother’s hair. Kili relaxes against him and before he knows what’s happened, his little brother’s passed out on his chest.

 

 

                Fili will think back on that night later and on Kili’s words as he realizes that of course Kili would never ask him to choose between him and the person he was dating.

                For Fili, the choice was already made. 


	3. Can't Help Myself From Looking for You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Several conversations, some which end well and some which don't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Lord, I'm sorry that it took me so long to get this out. It turns out that having an angsty mindframe is not actually helpful to writing angst. It's more like running into a brick wall over and over again at high speed. 
> 
> But yes, anyway. I'll try not to take this long again...But no promises? Enjoy. <3 
> 
> (PS I just did a really quick check of this chapter before posting, so let me know about any horrifically glaring errors and I'll fix them later, I just REALLY wanted to get this out)

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

 

**Day 4**

Most days, Fili enjoys his job as an intern at Erebor Inc. Thorin had warned him when he’d first gotten the job that there was little glory involved in the day to day fetching, filing, and calling that he would be doing, but Fili doesn’t mind that much. The work is simple but enjoyable and for the most part, his coworkers are pleasant enough. It helps that the majority of Erebor employees are related to him in some way, through distant, tangled lines of marriage and inheritance.

                There are some days, however, where nothing goes right and it seems as though the whole world just wants to take a piss on Fili Durin, heir to the company, come down to slum with the rest of the lowly interns. Those are the high-pressure days, when Fili wonders how he’s supposed to lead a company when he can’t even handle something as simple as preparing a five-minute presentation without coming close to a nervous breakdown. Those days the phone constantly rings and only problems exist on the other end. He gives and gives and does everything to the best of his ability, only to find that not one of his superiors thinks that it’s near good enough. None of his immediate superiors care that he’s their CEO’s nephew and probable heir to the company—Thorin’s never been a fan of nepotism, though on days like today, Fili wishes that he was.

                When Fili finally drags his exhausted body through the door, he wants nothing more than to take a shower and collapse into bed, maybe read, maybe play Call of Duty—what he does not want is to find Kili lounging in the doorframe to his bedroom with his arms crossed and a pissy expression on his face. He sighs and loosens his thin red tie as Kili turns from where he’s leaning in his doorway. “What do you want?” Fili irritably asks.

                “You’re home late,” Kili observes, pushing upright and staring down his nose at him.

                “I’m aware,” Fili snaps as he finishes unknotting his tie. He runs his hands through shoulder length blonde hair, tousling it from its office neatness, and waits for Kili to move.

                “Thought we were supposed to do something this afternoon,” Kili says.

                “Yeah, well, Thorin had other ideas.” Fili whips his tie out from his collar with an angry flourish that probably isn’t wholly necessary. “Now can you move?”

                Kili shifts out of his way but remains close as Fili opens his bedroom door. He snaps his bedside lamp on and the dim lighting throws his shadow up on the wall. Fili stops halfway through unbuttoning his shirt. Kili leans against his wall, arms clasped around his waist. His brother looks uncomfortable but Fili’s brain is too concerned with his proximity to be worried with how Kili might be feeling. “Can I help you?”

                “It’s just...I haven’t seen you in a few days.”

                “Can you sound a little less like I dumped you?” Fili sneers. The words escape his mouth, hanging in the open air before they drop, like jagged raindrops, slicing through the thin facade of normalcy that he’s tried to pull around himself. Kili flinches, like Fili’s physically struck him, before his face darkens and an ugly frown twists his features.

                “Look, you _said_ that it wouldn’t fuck anything up,” Kili snarls as he takes a large step forward, into Fili’s personal space. Fili wants to step backwards but he holds his ground. He feels oddly unprotected with the top half of his shirt open, exposing his collarbone and the light smattering of fuzz which covers his pectorals.

                Fili covers his nervousness with anger, as he shoves two sturdy fingers into Kili’s chest, pushing his lithe brother backwards into his bedroom wall. Kili could fight against the weak touch which pins him but his brother allows himself be cornered. Fili reads all of the emotions which flash across Kili’s face—anger, hurt, shame—all of them except one, which he’s never seen on Kili’s face before. It’s the last, unrecognized expression which gives him pause as his hand pushes against Kili’s chest, keeping him against the wall with its touch. He stares at the fingers splayed wide across Kili’s chest and shakily inhales as he feels Kili’s muscles twitch underneath his palm.

                “Fili?” Kili whispers. Fili’s eyes jerk back up to his younger brother’s face and he swallows, trying to wet his suddenly dry throat. Kili’s eyes look up at him and his baby brother shouldn’t wear a look which makes him appear so innocent and vulnerable...and so unbearably seductive, as the tip of a pink tongue swipes across his lower lip. Fili pushes harder and the heel of his hand digs into Kili’s sternum. A flush of pink flares on Kili’s cheeks as he shakily gasps.  “You said you were fine...”

                “I am,” Fili roughly says, not releasing the pressure of his hand.

                “You’re not!” Kili snaps, eyes angrily flashing. “You haven’t been able to look at me for days and when you do, you’re a dick!”

                “You’re imagining things,” Fili dismisses. “Everything’s fine.”

                “It’s not,” Kili insists, uneasily wriggling underneath his hand. “Please, Fee, I said I’m sorry.”

                “It’s not that easy Kili!” The words hiss viciously out between Fili’s teeth. “You think you can just apologize and it’s like nothing ever happened?”

                “I didn’t...I didn’t mean to fuck anything up!” Kili’s large brown eyes plead with him and Fili’s stomach twists painfully. It’s not Kili’s fault, none of this is. His little brother doesn’t deserve this attack—his only crime is to be the repository for Fili’s sick, twisted desires. Fili’s breathing quickens as he stares at Kili, willingly imprisoned by his light push. What else would his brother be willing to do? It would be so easy right now for him just to lean forward and kiss Kili, to push their bodies flush and feel his little brother’s heartbeat through his own chest, slide his thigh between Kili’s legs and press upward—

                Fili yanks his hand away as a thrill of horror tears through him. Kili sags against the wall and looks up at him with wide, innocent eyes. Fili imagines that he can see betrayal and terror glistening in their depths, as well as a lingering horror, and that image is enough to chase away the lingering remnants of twisted lust.

                “You didn’t fuck anything up,” Fili finally says, his eyes on the ground. It might be cowardly of him but he can’t look at Kili, not when he’s afraid of what his little brother might see within his gaze.

                “Yes I did!” Kili’s bare feet, tanned with two broad white lines from his favorite flip-flops appear in Fili’s field of vision, just before Kili’s fingers wrap around his wrists. “Fili, please,” Kili whispers as the pads of his fingers brush against the faint rise of veins. “Just...talk to me?”

                Fili finally dares to look into Kili’s eyes. The deep brown pools hold nothing but confusion and pathetic hope. Somehow that makes him feel worse than if there was hatred gleaming back at him. Kili’s fingers tighten on his wrists. “What do you want?” Kili begs, his voice barely louder than a whisper.

                There are lots of things Fili _wants_ —he wants to brush Kili’s bangs away from his face, where they fall in jagged little waves. He wants to run his tongue along the stubble of Kili’s jaw, taste the bob of Kili’s Adam’s apple as he gasps, bite down on the slender muscle corded in his neck...

                He _wants,_ God, does he _want,_ but Fili just shakes his head and gently takes his wrists out of Kili’s grip. “It’s nothing Kili. Don’t worry about it.”

                Kili snorts and Fili flinches at the bitter and pained sound coming from his little brother. He never wanted to be the cause for Kili’s unhappiness, he’s devoted the past eighteen years of his life to making sure that Kili’s ear-splitting grin continues uninterrupted. It’s slight comfort to know that if he told Kili what was actually on his mind he’d hurt his brother worse.

                “Yeah, don’t worry about it. Good idea.” Fili looks up at Kili. Their faces are pushed so close together that he could probably pass it off as an accident if their lips were to brush—Kili sighs and steps backwards. The loss strikes him hard, as if Kili’s stolen the warmth out of the room. “Night Fili.”

                Once Kili closes the door behind him, Fili collapses onto his bed, his face buried in his hands. Kili’s eyes stay emblazoned in his mind and his hurt little plea keeps playing over in his mind: _I didn’t mean to fuck anything up!_

                “Neither did I,” Fili whispers as his fingernails dig painfully into his scalp.

 

 

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

 

**Day 498**

                The distinctive voice of Ozzy Osbourne screams through his quiet apartment and it startles Fili so much that he drops the glass in his hand. Water spills over his feet as the plastic clunks against the floor but all of Fili’s attention is taken by the phone, moving slightly as the chords of _‘Crazy Train’_ pulse through the speaker. Kili’s ringtone.

                Fili’s hand shakes as he reaches out towards the phone, Kili’s grin filling up the screen. His thumb hovers over the bottom half of the screen, torn between the green answer button or the red ignore button.

_Fuck Fee, it’s like you don’t even give a damn that I’m coming up there—should I even fucking bother?_

                Fili swipes his thumb over the answer and presses the phone to his ear. “Hello?” he asks, forcing his voice to sound calm.

                “I wondered if you’d answer,” Kili’s hoarse voice answers him. Fili closes his eyes as his brother’s pain reverberates through the phone lines. The throaty, wrecked quality of Kili’s voice speaks of countless cigarettes smoked and perhaps even countless tears shed. Bad idea, terrible fucking idea, to answer the phone but the invisible chord which connects him to Kili still exists, still tugs at him, and makes it impossible for him to ignore his little brother when there’s even the slightest chance that Kili needs him.

                “Are you all right?” Stupid question to ask, Kili’s not any more _all right_ than he is, but it’s all that Fili can think of to say.

                “I’m...I haven’t slept much.” There’s no accusation in Kili’s voice but there’s a definite tremble. “You?”

                Fili closes his eyes and bites his lip. He knows what Kili wants—Kili wants him to say that he hasn’t been sleeping, that he hasn’t been eating, that he keeps on looking at his phone and fighting the urge to call and say that he was sorry, that he made a mistake, beg Kili to take him back...

                It would be so easy to give in. Nothing in the world would make him happier. _Kili, I’m sorry, I was a fucking moron, can we just forget it? Please, just let me make it up to you, I need you and I was stupid to think that I didn’t..._ So easy, and the worst decision he could make. It’s harder to listen to the stony silence on the other end, harder to bite his lower lip until he draws blood.

                “I’m all right,” Fili finally answers, the lie lingering sour against his tongue.

                “Yeah, well that stands to reason,” Kili bitterly replies, and this time he doesn’t make an effort to hold back the hurt bubbling in his voice.

                “Kili, what do you want?” Fili asks, his hand sweeping through his hair. He can’t handle this, the hurt and loss in Kili’s voice so perfectly mirroring his own. It tears at him, ripping his self-control away until he’s little more than a raw pile of need.

                “I just...I wanted to talk to you. I wanted to hear your voice...” Fili’s eyes burn as he sits down on the edge of his couch, his body almost straining towards the sound of Kili’s voice. Despite the fights, the yelling and hurt...He’s missed conversations with Kili, missed hearing the low tenor of his brother’s voice through the phone lines.

                “Kili...” He tries to remember the months of fights, of vicious words hurled between the two of them but he can’t. All he hears is Kili, lost and forlorn, the spaces between his words begging for the comfort which only Fili is capable of providing.

                “I just keep thinking that I’ll wake up and find out that it’s a dream.” Kili laughs and the sound is defeated, someone’s who’s seen the destruction of everything held dear. “That you didn’t break up with me...” The unspoken question, a silent request to reconsider.

                It’s not a break-up. Break-up is a mundane word, something suited for the halls of high school drama. This is so much more—this is having an essential part of himself ripped out, something which he needs more than most of his organs suddenly gone. For nineteen years he’s used Kili as his crutch, relied on his younger brother’s presence—and for the past year and a half Kili’s become _part_ of him, the first thought of the day and the last dream of the night.

                And he ruined all of that.

                “Kili, I can’t have this conversation with you,” Fili finally chokes out through a rapidly closing throat.

                “Why not?” Kili petulantly snaps. “You broke up with me, I think it’s perfectly reasonable for me to want to at least have a fucking conversation with you.”

                “Kili, I’m really not going to have this conversation,” Fili repeats. The urge to hang up wars with the urge to apologize and the battle leaves him sick and defeated. No matter what he does, he’s made the wrong choice. Why can’t his life be easy? Why does the one person he always trusted to understand him seem so intent on hurting him?

                “You owe me,” Kili insists and Fili recognizes the spoiled aspect of his little brother, the one who’s used to receiving everything he asks for. Kili always wants something from him, which is usually never a problem because Fili loves giving to him—except for now, when Kili acts like he doesn’t know that every single word causes Fili actual physical pain.

                “I don’t,” Fili whispers, limply sagging to the couch, his strings of resistance cut.

                “Yes you do!” Fili thinks that he might hate Kili, just a little, as the uneven pieces of his heart scrape agonizingly over each other at the shrill, bitter pain in Kili’s demand.

                As bad as Kili’s childish tantrum sounds, his next words completely shatter Fili.

                “You’re my brother. So yes you do owe me an explanation as to why you broke up with me.”

                The closest approximation Fili has to the pain which tears through his chest is the time that he broke three of his ribs with an idiotic maneuver in a _jujitsu_ tournament. But this is worse, so much worse, because it’s the rawest wound from their torn and bleeding relationship rubbed with salt and shoved in his face—by Kili, who should know better than anyone how much suffering can be caused by jostling that sore.

                “Fuck you Kili,” Fili whispers, his voice barely holding steady long enough for him to finish speaking. He viciously jabs his thumb at his screen, ending the call before he hurls the device across the room. He doesn’t see it land, but he hears the hollow clatter of separate plastic pieces hitting the ground.

                “Fuck,” Fili curses, chest heaving as though he’s run a marathon. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” His fingers grip convulsively at his elbows, tearing at the fabric of his shirt. He wants to slam his fist into the wall, feel the break of dry wall beneath his knuckles, wants to _destroy_.

                “ _Fuck,_ ” Fili whimpers as he finds himself in his bed, curling up in the unmade sheets and blankets. “Fuck, fuck, _fuck…”_ He mindlessly repeats the word, like that’s going to help him, like somehow just cursing will fix everything. His open palm feebly strikes the mattress as he curls further in on himself, knees touching his chest.

                His groping fingers touch unfamiliar fabric and he curiously tugs to reveal it. Once he sees what he holds, he wishes that he hadn’t. It’s a deep golden hoodie, with the dark green insignia of the College of Laketown on the front, with the word ‘Captain’ as well as the name ‘Durin’ across the back. Kili’s sweatshirt.

                Fili buries his nose in the fabric and breathes deep. He can still smell Kili’s cologne clinging to the garment, sharp and musky in his nose. If he closes his eyes then he can almost fool himself into thinking that it’s Kili held within his arms instead of a faint imitation.  

                He remembers when Kili left it in his bed, his brother’s pale skin practically luminescent as he peeled the hoodie off. He’d playfully tossed it at Fili, who’d easily snatched it out of the air. Fili had breathed into the fabric then as well, savoring the scent of Kili which clung heavily to the thick cotton.

                “Keep it if you’re so attached it then,” Kili had laughed, before he plucked the thick sweatshirt out of Fili’s grasp. Fili grunted at the loss, just before Kili had more than made up for it, throwing long limbs around him as he tackled them both down to the bed.

                “Won’t you need it when the season starts?” Fili had managed to ask, twisting his face away from Kili’s searching lips in order to ask the question.

                Kili frowned in response to his failed attempts at affection and Fili felt the vague stirring of anxiety. He ran a soothing hand up Kili’s arm, tracing the line of muscle where bicep turned into tricep, hoping that it was enough to appease. He doesn’t want to fight, not now, when the day had gone so well.  

                Thankfully it’s enough, and the lines between Kili’s eyebrows smooth as his long fingers tenderly card through Fili’s hair. “I’m coming back for Spring Break,” Kili tells him, as he shoves the tip of his nose just underneath Fili’s ear. “Give it back then if you want to.”

                At that point Kili’s nuzzling turned demanding and Fili happily acquiesced, relief flooding through his body as he responded to the familiar touches. He sank back into the mattress and let Kili take him up and over the brink of desire. For the first time since Kili had arrived that day, Fili had let himself relax as Kili dozed next to him, arm curling possessively around him.

                They could still make this work, he’d thought, just before he leaned back into Kili’s chest and drifted off. There was still enough there to make this whole thing work.

                Now he knows that it wasn’t enough. Now he hugs Kili’s sweatshirt to his chest, inhales his scent, and wishes that he could go back to that night. He would stay awake all night, listening to the even rhythm of Kili’s soft, almost snores, and watching as his brother flails from one side to the other as he slumbers.

                Kili’s a sound sleeper. Fili took a picture of him once, flash on and sound all the way up on his phone just to prove it. He still has that picture—as far as model shots go it’s less than flattering. Kili’s hair is tangled and his mouth hangs open at an angle which is less ‘cute’ and more ‘gaping fish’. There’s a faint stain on the side of his face which might be from drooling.

                It’s one of Fili’s favorite pictures of him.

                _“Kili,”_ he whispers brokenly into the fabric of Kili’s sweatshirt.

                He does not cry into the hoodie.

                It would ruin the smell of Kili.

 

 

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

 

 

**Day 13**

Two weeks pass without any words between Fili and Kili. The absence of his little brother scrapes against him, like a raw wound continuously jostled. He’s more irritable and tense, his mood worsening the longer he stays within his own mind, thoughts continuously circling around to Kili, always back to Kili.

                Even Thorin notices the change in his mood during their weekly lunch. He spends one afternoon a week with his uncle, as Thorin begins teaching him the various paths of Erebor Inc., telling him the particulars of their company before he goes off to college. Normally Fili is quietly thrilled about these lessons, eager for the chance to impress his imposing relative, but today he cannot manage anything more than an apathetic shrug, too busy remembering the glimpse of Kili’s ponytail he got in the morning as his brother went to his brick-laying job. Thorin’s dark eyebrow rises curiously as the two of them split a boat of sushi in his uncle’s spacious office, so different from his own cramped cubicle.

                “Is everything all right?” Thorin asks as he delicately dabs a splash of wasabi on his tuna. “You seem tense.”

                “I’m fine,” Fili says as he spears a piece of tilapia with rather more force than wholly necessary.

                Thorin chews slowly as he nods. From the look on his uncle’s face Fili can tell that he’s being less than convincing. “Your mother mentions that you and Kili haven’t been talking,” Thorin delicately broaches.

                “Don’t you have more important things to worry about?” Fili mumbles as he shoves several grains of rice around on his plate.

                Thorin chews slowly and takes a sip of his water while he considers Fili over the edge of his glass. “Not more important than family,” his uncle mildly comments. “You’ve had your disagreements before, I’m sure this will blow over.”

                “Sure,” Fili mumbles, halfheartedly dousing a roll in soy sauce.

                Being the CEO of Erebor Inc. has taught Thorin to recognize a lost cause. His uncle purses his lips in thought before he shakes his head and pulls a leather folder between them. “Let’s go over last month’s numbers,” he says as he opens the folder to reveal a dizzying array of graphs and numbers.

                Fili sinks into the input and output reports, studying the squiggly red, black and blue lines which creep across the graph pages. Thorin’s low voice walks him through the meaning of each report, repeating the explanation until it starts to sink into Fili’s head. For a few blissful hours Fili has nothing else to focus on other than the complicated relationships of labor, taxes, debts, and insurances. The realization that come autumn he’ll begin obtaining his Business degree and devoting the rest of his life to unraveling the tangled knot of these myriad relationships fills him with mingled excitement and terror. Still, he knows that he’ll never have a better teacher than his uncle.

                The afternoon leaves Fili with the refreshing feeling of confidence, something he hasn’t felt in a week. His mother catches him as he leaves the office and tells him that she’ll be working late with several members of the Legal Department. The sun’s still shining as he pulls into his gated community, so Kili’s Jeep parked in the driveway is a definite surprise. His good mood begins to fade as he wonders exactly what could have brought his brother home early from work.

                His keys jangle in the silence of the kitchen as he comes in through the back door. He rests his keys on the counter and listens for sounds echoing through the house. There’s no music floating down from upstairs so Kili’s not in his room. As he strains his ears further Fili can hear the sound of metal clanging in the basement.

                The gym downstairs was supposed to be a gift for both of them from their family but as the years have gone on, Kili’s gotten more use out of it than Fili. The muscles required for Kili’s archery need to be built and worked, which makes the gym ideal for the younger. While Fili still enjoys pumping iron for the exercise he’s much more addicted to the exhaustion which comes after a good run. The aerobic exercise does more for the _jujitsu_ and _judo_ which he favors.

                Fili leans against the basement doorway as he listens to the sounds of Kili working out, his little brother so close yet so far away. It hits him then, as he hears Kili tunelessly speaking out the beat to one of his favorite metal songs, how _lonely_ he is without Kili. There was a time, when he was a teenager and Kili was nothing more than a tiny child who trailed behind him, when he would have paid any sum to have Kili ignore him. But now, after these wretched days of awkward conversations, almost fights, and avoidance, all Fili wants is his brother.

                The familiar feeling of revulsion strikes him—he _wants_ his brother, but, to Fili’s surprise, he finds this time that the revulsion is tempered by a softer, gentler desire—he _needs_ his brother. Kili’s carefree laugh, his teasing smirks, his playful hugs—he didn’t realize how much he needed the relief they bring until they were suddenly gone. The brittle edge of lust still exists—Fili feels it scraping against him, rough sandpaper against his tender conscience, but the need for Kili’s uncomplicated love overpowers even that.

                Fili doesn’t worry about making noise as he descends the stairs. He knows from experience that once Kili has his earbuds in nothing short of a nuclear explosion will gain his brother’s attention. Kili’s back faces him as his brother inspects several dumbbells and Fili takes a moment just to watch him.

                The customary ponytail still holds Kili’s hair back and small golden hoops are visible in his brother’s earlobes. Bare feet—why does Kili insist on exercising in bare feet?—it’s a horrible, unsafe habit his brother’s developed. Kili’s grey tank top is stained dark from sweat and black gym shorts hang low on his hips, revealing a peak of his boxers as he bends at the waist to select a particular free-weight. Fili swallows, trying to moisten his rapidly drying mouth. He’s still trying to figure out the right words to say when Kili turns around, dark eyes widening in surprise.

 Too many emotions to properly categorize flit over his brother’s face in the span of time that it takes Kili to put the free-weight back in its proper place and yank out the earbuds. The tinny sound of vicious metal echoes through the small speakers and Kili fumbles in his pocket for his iPod. The music abruptly stops, immersing them in heavy silence.

                “Hey,” Fili finally offers, sticking his hands in the pockets of his dress pants. His tie feels too tight around his neck and he envies Kili his tank top. “I...I heard you down here. What are you doing here?”

                “Got off work early.” Kili reaches for a Gatorade bottle and scrubs at the back of his neck. “Haven’t worked out in a while.”

                “Yeah,” Fili says, finally giving into temptation and loosening his tie. “Don’t want to get soft now do you?” The familiar teasing feels stilted now, his delivery awkward as he scans Kili’s body. From his angled cheekbones, sharp jaw to his solidly muscled shoulders, arms and back—there’s nothing _soft_ about his brother.

                “What do you want Fili?” Kili sounds exhausted as he puts the Gatorade bottle down and gifts him with his full, occasionally unnerving attention.

                How could he have ever thought that anything about Kili was uncomplicated? His brother is a delighting mass of contradictions and Fili wants to unravel each and every thread until the puzzle of Kili lays solved in front of him. The hot twist of lust curls deep in his gut and Fili shoves his hands deep into his pockets to hide their trembling.

                “I just...can we talk?” Fili asks, hating that he has to even ask the question. He can’t ever remember a time when he hasn’t been able to talk to Kili. Even when they were younger and squabbled like two tomcats, Kili was always the easiest person for him to talk to.

                Wary hope flares in Kili’s eyes but his brother still keeps him at arm’s length. “About what?” Kili asks, voice carefully void of any emotion.

                “Look we need to...I’ve been a dick the past two weeks and I’m sorry,” Fili apologizes, the words pouring out in a rush. “You didn’t...it wasn’t your fault. I’ve just...It was a lot to take in.”

                “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Before Fili even registers Kili moving, his little brother’s already thrown his arms around the elder’s chest. Kili’s face presses into Fili’s carefully maintained mane and despite his brother’s sweat soaked body and the tingling desire pulsing steadily in the back of his mind, Fili’s arms encircle his sibling. Kili relaxes in his embrace, his taller body practically sagging against Fili.

                “It’s ok, we’re all right.” The mindless reassurances fall easily from his lips and though they might not be completely true, Fili still feels better than he has since Kili’s birthday. Tension bleeds out of his body even as his arms tighten.

                He can feel Kili’s voice rumble through his chest, the sound muffled from his face being pressed into Fili’s hair. “I’m sorry,” Kili whispers once Fili tilts his head to the side to better hear him.

                “We’re all right,” Fili repeats. He hates the pitiful note in Kili’s apologies, hates that he’s responsible for it, hates that Kili even thinks that he needs to apologize. He hates that his whole life has been thrown off-kilter—the only part of his existence which still feels _right_ is Kili’s warmth against his body, the scent of Kili’s hair in his nose, the grip of Kili’s fingers against his back.

                Kili draws back, his hands trailing down Fili’s biceps to fiddle with the button on his sleeve cuffs. Fili keeps his eyes focused on Kili’s face as his heart skips erratically. _Not this_ , he silently begs Kili, don’t _let me ruin this, when everything’s just finally started to be fixed..._

                Kili looks at him through a curtain of dark eyelashes as his thumb idly flicks underneath the fabric to touch smooth skin. “Kili...” His voice is supposed to sound stern, warning his brother of the impending danger. Instead, his baby brother’s name becomes a strangled sounding plea as his chest becomes constricted. He wants Kili to continue, craves the touch of his brother’s thumb against his skin, even as frigid terror seizes him at the thought of what happens next.  

                Kili’s loose grip on his wrist keeps him captive, even though Fili could easily break the hold if he wished. It’s a sick stone of shame sunk deep into his stomach to admit that he doesn’t want to relinquish this touch of Kili’s, so fraught with double meanings. Self-loathing doesn’t stop him from committing how the edge of Kili’s calloused thumb feels against the bump of the thin blue veins on his wrist, how the scent of Kili’s sweat mixes with his brother’s sharp deodorant, how the thin hairs at Kili’s temples become stuck to the pale skin when his brother perspires.

                “Kili,” Fili whispers as his brother leans forward. Kili’s upper lip has sweat beaded above the cupid’s bow and Fili wants nothing more than to lick it off.

                “We’re all right?” Kili asks, but the question is more than just an affirmation of what Fili’s already said. Somehow, it’s a request to proceed and God help him but Fili can’t bring himself to say no.  

                It seems unreal to Fili, like everything’s moving in stop-motion. One moment Kili stands arm length away from him. The next, Kili is pressed against him, so close that Fili can feel the heat from his brother’s body through his shirt. He twists his hands so that he’s the one holding Kili’s thin wrists—he needs the support, he needs Kili to stop…His grip tightens and he feels Kili’s right wrist pop underneath the pressure of his hands. Kili doesn’t flinch away—his brother’s never been one to ignore a challenge.

                “We’re all right Fili,” Kili breathes, and it’s a battle to restrain the whimper which threatens to escape as Kili shifts. Their groins almost press against each other and Fili is thankful for the slightly baggy, thick fabric of his dress pants, even as he hates himself as his cock stirs in interest at Kili’s closeness.

                When Kili’s lips press, scorching hot, against his skin, it takes him by surprise. Fili jerks back but the damage is already done—he can still feel the corner of his mouth, where his moustache meets his goatee, tingle with the memory of Kili’s kiss. He raises a shaking hand to the area but doesn’t touch. He tries to convince himself that it’s because it’s nothing, just simple brotherly affection, and that doesn’t deserve the gravity of his fingers pressing against the place where Kili’s mouth just was. He doesn’t want to erase his skin’s memory of Kili just yet—he wants to let it linger.

                “I…I have to get a shower,” Kili mumbles. He easily pulls his wrists out of Fili’s grasp and thunders up the stairs, taking them two at a time. In record time, Fili hears the spurt of the shower head and the low humming of the pipes in the basement. He tries not to think of Kili, naked in the shower, long hair plastered to his face and shoulders, how the water would run down his chest, to his hips, and lower…

                “God damn it,” Fili growls as his cock stirs to half-hardness, and suddenly his dress pants don’t seem quite as baggy as they used to.

                That night he and Kili sit in the den together as some inane reality show plays. Kili absently nudges him with a bare foot and Fili swats at him without looking. Their mother peeks into the room when she hears Kili’s indignant squawk, but she retreats with a smile when she sees her youngest pelting her eldest with Fritos.

                When the silliness subsides and they both return to their respective perches, Fili sneaks a furtive peek at Kili, only to find that his brother’s intense dark eyes already watch him. Instead of looking away or tossing off a lame insult, Kili just ducks his head as a soft pink flush touches his cheeks. A shy little smile which Fili’s never seen before darts around his lips and Kili ducks his head, letting his hair hide the expression.

                When Kili looks back at him, his brother’s face has returned to normal except…Except for the little challenging smirk which lurks in the almost-tilt of his lips and the tilt of his head, the way that his eyes narrow as he flicks them up and down Fili’s frame. Fili swallows as Kili finally turns his attention back towards the television. He’s never seen Kili act like this before, _never._ He ignores the little whisper of deadly hope in the back of his mind which tells him he knows exactly what Kili’s doing, that maybe his little brother is better at going about getting what he wants than he is.

                Fili’s eyes dart to Kili for the rest of the night but he never catches a second glimpse of either expression. In a few hours, Kili trundles off to bed and Fili isn’t far behind.

                That night, when he jerks off, it’s to the memory of Kili’s heat radiating off of his sweaty body, the bratty little challenge he saw in his brother’s eyes, the feel of their groins almost but not quite touching. When he comes, sound muffled by his teeth biting into his pillow, it’s Kili’s lips in his mind, pressing sinfully hot against his own.

                Fili cleans himself off and, much to his shame the next morning, sleeps like a baby. 


	4. Easy as Lovers Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A moment's respite from the storm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, you can thank ceealaina, who was going out of town, and my roommate, who withheld snuggles and delicious treats, for this update. 
> 
> Bad Doth is bad for not updating sooner. -wrist smacks all around-
> 
> But yes, have an update. With significantly less angst and significantly more porn, because why not. 
> 
> As is the norm lately, forgive any mistakes, had to finish within a time-frame. Heh.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

**Day 14**

               

                Fili wipes his hands on his dark jeans, glancing over his shoulder at the customers sitting at the bar to make sure that no one’s flagging him down. Tending bar at Beorn’s on the weekend isn’t the most glamorous of jobs and it’s certainly never going to further his ambitions in life, as Thorin’s reminded him many times, but it gives him some extra cash that he can spend with no guilt. It also gives him a workplace where he doesn’t have to worry about his every move being inspected for hints of immaturity or incompetence—no one gives a damn what he does behind the bar as long as he gets them the right drink.

                A raised hand grabs his attention and Fili nods in acknowledgement as he fetches a bottle of Bud Light from the ice bucket behind him. With a practiced twist of his wrist he removes the top and hands it over to the customer—Bofur, one of the regulars.

                Despite Beorn’s regular affirmations that he dislikes the high capitalist elite of Erebor Inc. he’s taken well to both Fili and Bofur—indeed, Fili’s gotten more than a few smiles from his taciturn giant of a boss. Bofur fits in well with the crowd at Beorn’s—casual and friendly, hardly ever seen without his characteristic winged hat, the other man fits in more with the relaxed atmosphere of Beorn’s rather than the intense, predatory aura of Thorin’s board room. It’s probably why Bofur spends so much time in the IT Department of Erebor Inc., developing various programs, several of which have gone on to become best-selling games.

                “Everything all right?” Bofur asks as he wipes a smattering of foam off of his thick moustache.

                “Yeah, everything’s great,” Fili absently answers, grabbing a cloth and wiping down the counter.

                “You just look…you look upset.” Bofur takes another sip of his beer without taking his friendly eyes off of Fili.

                Fili represses the shudder as the memory of Kili’s bare foot pressing against his socked ankle at the breakfast table rears its head. The touch was there and gone before Fili had a chance to react and left him shaky and yearning. He’d let out a strangled garble and Kili had looked curiously at him, his dark eyes wide and innocent, looking for all the world like he hadn’t just been playing accidental footsie with his elder brother.

                “Isn’t the bartender supposed to be saying that to you?” Fili asks as he leans against the counter. Bofur shrugs as he rolls a cigarette around his lower lip.

                “You looked like you needed it more,” he mumbles as he lights it and takes a deep drag. “So out with it lad.”

                “It’s none of your business,” Fili frowns, puffing at the cloud of smoke which slowly drifts towards him. It’s a rare night that he doesn’t come home from Beorn’s with the stench of cigarette smoke clinging to his hair and clothes.

                Perhaps he and Bofur really should switch positions, Fili thinks after the other man just hums and nods, his eyes flicking over Fili. Fili tries to hold his stare but Bofur outlasts him until Fili huffs in resignation and draws a stool up to the bar. Only then does Bofur gift him with the full brilliance of his smile.

                Fili runs his hands through his hair as he tries to think of where to begin. How do you tell a friend that you suddenly have the almost uncontrollable urge to kiss your brother? He can’t tell the truth, that’s for damn sure.

                “What if…” Fili scrubs at his goatee as he fumbles with the clumsy words. “What if you found yourself wanting someone that you were never supposed to want?”

                Bofur purses his lips in thought. “Well, if it’s a question of wanting someone with a significant other, I’d say that you have to figure out if you’re willing to wreck whatever it is they have at the moment.”

                “It’s not…they’re not dating anyone,” Fili says, kicking the footrest of his stool. “I just…If I tried to be with this person then it would fuck everything up—“

                “But you still want to,” Bofur interrupts. Helplessly, Fili nods. The press of Kili’s foot against his ankle, Kili’s lips against the corner of his mouth…Kili’s wrists in his hands as he whispers, _“We’re all right Fili.”_

                “So what are you afraid of?” Bofur makes it sound so reasonable, so plausible that it almost makes Fili listen—but Bofur has no idea what he’s talking about. “You only live once—be a hell of a lot better to be with the wrong person and regret it in the end than not even getting a chance at being with the right person.”

                “It’s not that easy,” Fili groans, eyes cast down towards the ground. “It’s…there’s so much that it could ruin…And you don’t understand, I _can’t_ want them…”

                “Why not?”

                “It’s _wrong,_ ” Fili tries, knowing even as he says it that the words will make little to no difference to Bofur.

                True to his prediction, Bofur simply smiles cherubically and takes a deep drink of his beer. “Wrong eh? Unless it’s that dirtbag Smaug you’ve got a crush on, I doubt that anyone who knows you will object.”

                “Don’t be so sure,” Fili mutters as he chews on his lower lip.

                He looked it up on the Internet last night, after locking his door and calming down his irrational fears that the government was watching his search history. He’d stared at Google’s white homepage, the brightly colored letters mocking him with their simplicity. He’d finally typed in the beginnings of his search—

                  _What if I_

Google offered him dozens of possibilities—What if I want to change my major? What if I have diabetes? What if I died? All normal questions and he doesn’t care about the answers to any of them.

                _What if I want to kiss my brother?_

He’s sure that the cops will break down his door the second that he pushes the Enter key, certain that his mother and Thorin will shriek in horror, the doctors will come in with the straitjacket and Kili—Kili will shrink away from him, overcome with horror at how depraved his big brother has become…But nothing happens. Fili takes a deep breath and searches through the first responses.

                He finds several horribly written sex scenes, involving several acts that Fili’s pretty sure are physically impossible, all of them with dialogue that a porn flick would be embarrassed to showcase. Then there are the websites which deal specifically with sibling incest. Fili forces himself to read each and every one, although he feels like vomiting after the first page.

                Most of them agree on the basic facts: the majority of sibling incest occurs when an older sibling assaults a younger. The sites tell Fili that the explanation of sibling incest is usually due to some childhood sexual abuse to the older, and the molestation of the younger occurs as a way of acting out against that trauma. All of the sites agree that it’s a huge problem and that serious professional help is required.

                There are horrific stories on the sites, accounts of siblings doing unspeakable grotesqueries to each other. Fili forces himself to read them all, his stomach twisting as he continues. He remembers Kili running to him for protection, tears still in his eyes. He thinks of all the times that he’s helped his younger brother, all the times he’s stood in front of him and protected him—Surely he isn’t like those others, surely there’s something pure and loving in his desire—He doesn’t want to hurt Kili, he only wants to love him, wants to lay him down and worship him…He isn’t gone beyond all hope, not yet. He has to tell himself that or else lose all hope of his own salvation.

                 “You all right there?” With a violent shake of his head, Fili manages to jerk himself back to the present where Bofur looks at him, his brow furrowed in concern. Fili laughs self-consciously as he gets up from the stool and slides another bottle at the software designer. From down the bar someone else flags him down and Fili gratefully goes to attend them, seeking escape from Bofur’s worry.

                His friend will not be deterred however. Once Fili’s done taking care of the rest of the patrons Bofur flags him down. Fili leans against the counter, his heart thudding nervously. He doesn’t want to have this conversation with Bofur—when he talks with someone who doesn’t understand the whole story it all sounds so plausible, sounds as though it could actually work…It’s a beautiful lie and one that Fili can’t ever afford to believe.

                “Look, I don’t want to talk about it anymore, all right?” Fili sighs, running his hands through his shaggy hair. “It’s just…it’s not going to happen, so just forget it.”

                Bofur frowns, obviously displeased with his answer, but Fili doesn’t care. It’s painful enough to just watch Kili, always wanting but never _having,_ and all the while knowing that these desires mean that he’s some sort of freak…To have that bashing against his skull and then have the beginnings of a thin tendril of hope curling around his heart is enough to break him. He’s barely hanging onto his self-control with his fingernails.

                He’s terrified to think of what happens if _(when)_ he finally slips.

 

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

               

**Day 382**

Kili makes a terrible desk, Fili decides, as Kili jerks in surprise as some computer-generated monster pops up on the television screen. He had insisted on sprawling across Fili’s outstretched legs, even though Fili had complained about having to get through the next chapter in his reading. So Fili had compromised by using Kili’s body as a table. Of course, it’s difficult to write neatly when his brother-desk keeps on squirming. Difficult but not impossible. So when Kili jerks to the side, completely absorbed in his game, Fili manages to anticipate the movement and pauses in scratching out notes in the book propped against the swell of Kili’s ass. Once Kili settles, he returns to writing, though he does give a reprimanding slap to his brother’s buttocks.  Kili, absorbed in the action on the screen, only grunts at him. There’s a moment of silence before—

                “No, no, Bard, dammit, behind you, get it, get it!” Fili rolls his eyes as he exhales in a long-suffering sigh. When the desk screams as well as moves, it becomes exponentially harder to work.

                Full of exasperated affection, Fili glances down at his wayward writing surface. Kili’s dressed in his favorite pair of faded cargo shorts and a loose red tank top. His bare feet press against the surface of Fili’s comforter and as Fili watches, Kili’s toes curl as Kili leans to the side, intent upon the action on the television screen. Really, it’s lucky that Kili looks so damnably adorable when he gets sucked into the action of his game. Otherwise it would be easy to murder him when he shouts into the speaker of his headset.

                “Did you get it? Did you get it?” There’s a pause in Kili’s constant commentary and Fili relishes the silence before he spies a flurry of action on the television screen preludes another bout of anguished yelling. “Bard, I said behind you, wait I’m on my way!”

                Kili rolls and jostles his pen so that it streaks across the page and finally, Fili snaps. He reaches over and yanks Kili’s headset off, ignoring Kili’s squawk of pain as he pulls on several strands of hair. Kili violently jabs the pause button and whirls to face him.

                “The hell was that for?” Kili snaps, propping himself up on an elbow.

                “You’re being distracting,” Fili answers, watching as Kili’s frown deepens.

                “You’re working too much.” Fili rolls his eyes once more at Kili’s flippant tone. “You should just relax. It’s summer.”

                “Yeah, and I have _summer_ classes,” Fili retorts, shaking the book in Kili’s face. “Some of us keep working even during the month of July.”

                “I work,” Kili absently answers, picking at a threadbare spot on Fili’s shorts, his dark eyebrows diving into a severe frown at Fili’s chortle. “I have a job, you’ve seen me there.”

                “Working several hours a week at the landscaping department hardly constitutes a job,” Fili scoffs. Kili scowls just before digging his finger painfully into the space between Fili’s ribs.

                “Shouldn’t you be happy that I got a job at the university?” Kili’s face looks like a thundercloud. “That way I get to stay with you all summer and no one has a problem with it.”

                “Says you,” Fili mutters. Thorin has quite the problem with Kili taking a job with Rivendell University’s landscaping department over the summer. He’s complained to Fili numerous times about it, always saying that this had been the summer that he’d intended Kili to begin working at Erebor. Fili’s tried to placate his uncle but had been unable to completely restrain his glee that Kili would be staying with him the entire summer. A whole summer, living by themselves, without having to worry about what would happen if their mother came home early…

                Kili chuckles suddenly and Fili’s eyebrow quirks upward in question. Then he takes a second to fully appreciate the suddenly devilish expression spreading across Kili’s face. A responding grin starts to creep across his lips even as he tries to make his own face stern. “I have work to do,” Fili warns, clutching his book close to his chest. Kili smirks just before he plucks the book out of his hands and tosses it across the room. Fili winces as he hears the pages hit the floor but then he can’t worry about the book anymore, due to Kili crawling up his body, bestowing little nips across his chest and collarbone.

                “I need…I have to finish that chapter,” Fili breathlessly laughs, his head falling back against the solid wooden headboard as Kili determinedly noses down the collar of his shirt to nibble on the jut of his clavicle. “It’s due tomorrow…” His voice disintegrates in a low moan as Kili sucks hard on the sensitive skin, his tongue soothing over the mark.

                “Fuck your reading,” Kili growls, scraping his teeth over the newly created bruise on Fili’s skin. Fili’s hand creeps up Kili’s back, smoothing over the bumps of the vertebrae in Kili’s neck before he releases Kili’s hair from its ponytail.  The dark hair spills over his fingers and Fili runs his fingers through the soft tresses, marveling at how easily his fingers comb through. Kili hums in a vague sort of agreement as his hands smooth over the planes of his chest, fingers pausing to brush over stiffening nipples.

                Fili bites back a groan as he concentrates on not arching up into the teasing touches. “Rather fuck you,” he grits out, just before he loses the battle and pushes his chest into Kili’s hands. Kili, the little bastard, just pulls away, but not before pausing to flick one of the erect nubs.

                “That joke’s not very clever,” Kili observes with a bratty little grin. It’s quite pleasurable to make that smug expression disappear as he grabs Kili’s hips and holds him immobile while he thrusts upwards. Kili’s mouth drops open in shocked pleasure, changing his whole demeanor from a devious little monster into a wanton, needy creature. It had taken months for Fili to stop feeling guilty over how much he enjoyed watching Kili’s head loll backwards, watch the bob of Kili’s throat as he swallowed, see how Kili squirms when he rolls his hips up just like… _that._ Kili groans as he rocks backward, his baggy shorts already straining outwards with a subtle bulge.

                “Still true,” Fili pants, stealing a kiss as Kili rests their foreheads together. They’ve done this so many times already that their bodies easily fall into a predictable rhythm, but it still feels so damned _good…_ The tremble of Kili’s back as he slides his hands underneath the tank top to touch skin, the way Kili’s knees clamp onto his hips, the sharp bite of Kili’s cinnamon gum as his younger brother’s tongue slides into his mouth.

                “Wearing too much,” Kili pants against his cheek, his hands already insistently tugging at the hem of his t-shirt. Fili arches up, shivering as cool air meets his heated skin. Kili’s hands smooth over his torso, fingers tangling in his soft chest hair, chasing away the goosebumps on his torso. Kili’s long fingers dance over his stomach, pinching at his lower abdomen, just before he starts to work at the buckle of Fili’s belt. Once he’s undone the heavy silver buckle, Kili doesn’t bother to pull the supple leather free of the loops of his jeans, too busy working at the button of his pants.

                Fili groans as Kili flicks his tongue over his nipple while pulling down his zipper. His hands, which were resting at Kili’s waist, dip below the band of his shorts and inch underneath the elastic of his boxers. He manages to just reach the crease of Kili’s ass before his brother reaches behind him and grabs his wrists. Kili pulls his hands away from his body and holds his wrists above his head, the carved surface of the headboard digging into the backs of his hands. Fili groans in disappointment before he glares at Kili. “The fuck do you think you’re doing?”

                “No more working for you today,” Kili announces, planting a smacking kiss on his forehead. Fili jerks just once against Kili’s hands, just to be a dick. Though he could easily break Kili’s hold he’s more interested in seeing where this is headed.

                “Getting off isn’t working,” Fili growls, spreading his legs as he thrusts upwards. The friction makes his eyes roll backwards and Kili tightens his fingers on his wrists. “Getting off is _fun._ ”

                “Oh, you’ll still get off,” Kili assures him. He guides Fili’s hands to his hair and grins in that way which always makes Fili’s heart skip. “Just trust me, would you?”

                Fili would say something smart, like maybe how trusting Kili usually ends with at least one of them in pain, but Kili’s already running his fingers over the prominent bulge in his boxers and Fili’s too interested in feeling those fingers on his skin to risk irritating Kili. His gamble pays off as Kili works his underwear over his cock and slides his boxers along with his jeans down his thighs. Kili doesn’t even bother to fully undress him, just leaves everything bunched around his knees before he splays himself across Fili’s legs. Fili spreads his thighs as best he can while he encouragingly pets Kili’s hair, anticipation curling in his gut as Kili peppers his hips and groin with tiny pecks.

                _“Fuck,”_ Fili groans, long and appreciative, as Kili runs his tongue over the full length of him, pausing to flick the slit. “Fuck, Kee…” His hands tighten and loosen in the silky hair, wanting to force Kili all the way down but still enjoying the slow play of Kili’s mouth around the head of his erection. He traces the line of Kili’s lips from where they’re stretched around his length, lingering on the full lower lip. His cock twitches in Kili’s mouth when he becomes aware of the small rolls of Kili’s hips into his legs, his hard cock pressing into his thigh.

                “Come here, let me,” Fili pants, groaning as Kili sucks hard in response to his voice. His head falls backwards, striking the headboard, but he doesn’t care, not when Kili moves his tongue like _that—_ “Kili,” Fili groans, pawing at Kili’s waist and hips, “…just…come _here…”_

Kili hums in agreement around his mouthful, carefully shifting his lower body so that his feet rest even with Fili’s head. Too far gone to worry about artistry, Fili tears at Kili’s shorts, somehow managing to open the button and fly. Kili, recognizing danger in his desperate movements, bats his hands out of the way as he one-handedly shoves his boxers down his thighs, freeing his fully hardened cock. Were he in his right mind Fili might wonder at Kili’s coordination, his brother never ceasing the slow bobs of his head even as he thrusts his hips in clear supplication. But all he cares about is the sway of Kili’s prick, the way the head’s already slick with pre-cum.

                Kili moans deep in his throat when Fili wraps his fingers around him, thrusting his hips into his grasp even as he sucks harder in response. Head thrown back in pleasure, Fili twists his wrist, drinking in Kili’s half-gasp as his head moves up and down on him.

                “Fuck,” Fili grunts as Kili’s nimble fingers stroke over his balls, rolling them gently in his palm. “Shit, Kee, I’m close…” Kili squeezes the firm muscle of his quadriceps in acknowledgement, his left hand smoothing over the fine hairs on his thigh while his right shifts its attention from his balls to the very bottom of his dick. Tension coils in the pit of his stomach, a tight heat which begs only—Kili curls his tongue around just the head and hollows his cheeks as he sucks, and that’s it for Fili.

                His back curves as his heels dig into the mattress, free hand twisting the comforter between his fingers. He barely manages to choke out a warning of “ _Fuck, Kili,”_ before he’s coming. He keeps his eyes open for as long as he can, finding the sight of Kili’s throat desperately trying to swallow shamefully erotic.

                It’s been over a year and Kili still hasn’t quite mastered the art of swallowing—he manages as best he can but eventually he gags and pulls off, resting his head on Fili’s thigh as he takes in gulping breaths. Fili moves his hands to stroke over Kili’s hair, still too ruined to offer a more solid form of comfort.

                After a few moments Kili lifts his head and grins at him with that patented, shit-eating grin which Fili’s come to associate with Kili feeling particularly smug about getting him off. Fili’s too exhausted to feel particularly annoyed, especially since after that orgasm Kili deserves a little cockiness. “Come here,” Fili sighs, a low purr of contentment rumbling through his chest as Kili stretches alongside him.

                Kili kisses him, deliberately but with urgency fueling his movements. Fili smiles as he worms his hand between their bodies to wrap around Kili’s cock once more. Kili pants into his mouth as his hands make their way to twist in his hair, just short of being painful. His hips thrust erratically into Fili’s hand, jerking as Fili runs his thumb over the leaking slit.  

                The soft whimper which escapes Kili’s lips sends a jolt through his body and his spent cock valiantly twitches in interest. Kili crashes his lips on him, teeth nipping at the corner of his mouth. Fili increases his speed as he pulls away from Kili’s mouth to lavish attention on Kili’s sensitive earlobe, pulling the small golden hoop into his mouth. Kili keens, high and desperate as Fili tugs gently on his hoop.

                “Are you close?” Fili murmurs, punctuating his words with little flicks of his tongue to the shell of Kili’s ear. Dirty talking has never been a kink which he was particularly fond of—until he found that the sound of his voice sent little shivers through Kili, like the ones he can feel right now.

                Kili nods in little broken jerks, pulling their bodies closer together. His breath comes out in short pants, warm against the side of Fili’s neck. “Are you gonna come for me?” Fili asks, hand unceasing in its movements as he suckles Kili’s ear.

                “Yes, _yes,”_ Kili whines, his voice high and needy, its usual teasing tone vanished in lusty desperation.

                “You sound so gorgeous…God, do you know how good you look right now?” A needy mewl answers him as Kili pushes his face into the crook of his neck. “Kili, I need you to come now.” Fili’s voice is a low growl, his words finished by a nip to the soft lobe of Kili’s ear.

                With a hoarse shout, Kili comes, thick white jets covering Fili’s hand as he strokes Kili through his orgasm. Kili shudders as he finishes, collapsing in a boneless heap against Fili’s side, head pillowed on his shoulder. Fili looks at the mess on his hand and wrinkles his nose in distaste. He tries to be subtle and unobtrusive as he wipes his hand clean on his comforter. He’ll have to do wash later tonight but for this moment, it’s worth it. He rests his head against Kili’s, inhaling the familiar scent of his brother’s shampoo and deodorant, smiling as Kili’s arm wraps around his waist.

                “You weren’t supposed to work,” Kili finally mumbles, face still twisted in a blissful smile.

                “That was… _not_ work,” Fili responds with a breathless laugh, dropping a fond kiss to the top of Kili’s head.

                “I’d agree.” Kili snuggles further into his body, fingers absently rubbing against his ribs. Fili squirms at the ticklish touch, the barest huff of a laugh escaping him before Kili switches to a firmer touch. “Wait a little bit before you go back to reading?” Kili asks, already wriggling out of his boxers and shorts. He throws one of his long legs over Fili’s lap, effectively imprisoning his older brother.

                “Yeah, I can do that.”

Kili nods, a tiny smile covering his face as he slides his hand underneath Fili’s shirt to rest on the warm skin of his chest. It’s more than a little uncomfortable, the divots and folds of his jeans digging into the skin on his legs while his groin is definitely a little chilly, but it’s worth it, a thousand times over, for the easy, contented feel in the room as Kili dozes on top of him.

_This is how it should be,_ Fili finds himself thinking as he manages to toe a blanket up to his waist. Kili doesn’t even stir as Fili shifts underneath him, wriggling further down into the pillows to ease the ache in his lower back. _This is how it should always be_ , is his last thought before his eyes drift shut.

 

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

 

 

**Day 15**

Fili doesn’t bother turning on the lights as he slides into the house, slowly turning the deadbolt behind him. The lock quietly snicks and Fili toes off his shoes at the door before making his way up the stairs, socks making no noise on carpet. The house is dark and silent, his mother and Kili having long ago gone to bed.

                Once his bedroom door is closed behind him, Fili turns on his bedside lamp and collapses onto his mattress, his tense body finally relaxing in the comfort of his own space. Bofur’s words from earlier in the night keep chasing themselves around his brain, along with Kili’s wide, innocent eyes, paired with the decidedly not innocent press of a foot against his ankle. Fili rubs at his mouth, fingers lingering over where Kili kissed him two days ago. He swears that he can still feel Kili’s lips, scorching hot, against his skin.

                “Enough,” Fili mutters, dragging his shirt off and throwing it in the general direction of his hamper. Tomorrow he’ll do laundry but for now he just wants to sleep. He kicks his jeans off and rolls underneath the blankets, hand groping on the floor for one of the recommended reading books for Rivendell University. Perhaps a little light reading will settle his mind enough to allow him an easy sleep. Somehow he doubts it, but it’s at least worth a try.

                He’s just opened the book to where he last stopped reading when his door creaks open. Fili pauses, heart beating faster, until Kili pokes his head in the room. With a sigh, Fili rolls his eyes and snaps the book shut on his lap. Kili at least looks slightly abashed.

                “I was waiting up for you,” he murmurs, sliding into his room without waiting for an invitation. His hair is tousled like he’s been tossing and turning for hours. His baggy basketball shorts hang low on his hips while his wife-beater tank top rides up, revealing a swath of tanned skin on his waist and hip. Fili swallows heavily, unable to take his eyes off of his brother’s skin as Kili pads closer.

                Kili sprawls across his bed, much in the fashion of a large cat, and Fili suddenly becomes very, very aware of the fact that he only has on a pair of boxer shorts. He tries to pull the comforter up to his chin without alerting Kili to his discomfort. “What d’you think you’re doing?” Fili finally asks once he’s fully ensconced in his blankets. Kili stretches and Fili swallows hard as the younger’s shirt rides up even more to reveal a thin trail of black hair which tapers into the waistband of his shorts. Fili suddenly wants nothing more than to trace his fingers over Kili’s stomach, underneath the shorts, find out where that hair ends…

                “Wow, you’re out of it tonight,” Kili observes. Hissing in irritation, Fili shakes his head, forcing himself back into the present. Kili stares at him, one of his eyebrows quirked in questioning amusement. “Everything all right?”

                “Just tired,” Fili tries. From the exaggerated tilt of Kili’s eyebrow, Fili can tell that he’s not entirely convinced but Kili doesn’t say anything in response. There’s a moment of silence where Kili stares at him, eyes silently daring as a little smile tugs at his mouth. Fili swallows with a suddenly dry mouth, heart racing as he ponders the challenge…and then, with a sinking feeling of cowardice, he drops his eyes. “Why were you waiting up for me?”

                He can feel more than see Kili’s disappointment. The air, which had been almost crackling with tension, goes flat and stale and Kili’s shoulders slump. “No reason,” Kili mutters as he rolls onto his side away from Fili.

                The line of Kili’s back faces him and gives about as many answers as Kili himself. Fili swallows hard as he’s frozen in indecision. He wants nothing more than to close the space between them and wrap himself around Kili but he’s not sure how Kili will react. The thought that Kili might not accept his embrace is a startling one. When they were younger he was always the one who could soothe away Kili’s moods with nothing more than a touch or a word. It’s not that easy anymore, not when he’s the one causing the moods.

                “Kili…” Nothing but silence answers his words and Fili manages to halt his hand before it brushes over Kili’s shoulder. This might be nothing more than manipulation or it might be Kili seeking affection. He can’t tell but the idea that Kili might be hurting because of him is too much to bear.

                “What’s wrong?” The blanket is thrown aside, his modesty forgotten. His hand touches Kili’s bare arm and though he can feel the muscle tense Kili doesn’t jerk away from his touch. Taking a chance Fili moves further down the bed until he’s almost touching Kili. His brother curls into a tighter ball but still doesn’t move. “Kili, please talk to me.”

                “Nothing’s wrong.” Kili’s voice comes out petulant and muffled, and despite all the troubles which still hang between them, Fili can do nothing but smile at his brother’s wretched attempt at lying.

                “Come on Kee, just tell me.” Fili’s almost shivering but not quite—his whole body feels like he’s drunk, even though he hasn’t touched a drop of alcohol in days. With a sudden burst of clarity, Fili realizes the precipice that he stands on—and as Kili finally rolls over to face him, he finally knows exactly what he’s going to do.

                “It’s nothing,” Kili stubbornly insists, face twisted into a frown which smoothes into incredulity as Fili reaches shaking fingers out to his cheek. “F—Fee?” Kili asks, and Fili has to choke back a laugh at how utterly stupid Kili looks as his eyes cross in an attempt to watch his fingers.

                “It’s all right,” Fili assures, the words ringing true even though his heart and stomach are twisting in opposite directions as nausea overtakes him. He’s trembling, shaking all over and he knows, _knows_ that he’ll regret this but he doesn’t care, not now when what he wants—what he needs—is there in front of him. Bofur’s words, the stark black on white of the web pages, the bitter taste of alcohol on Kili’s tongue… _You’re a good kisser…_ Kili’s lips part as his deep brown eyes dart down to his fingers and then up to Fili’s eyes.

                “Fili, what are you…?” Kili’s voice trails off as disbelieving hope starts to dawn on his face. “Fili,” Kili breathes as he reaches upwards. Fili jumps as Kili’s fingers brush against his wrist but Kili swiftly grabs his fingers, keeping him from pulling away. “Fili, what are you…what are we doing?”

                The question, stated so blankly, startles Fili out of his trance. It’s enough, almost, to send him running, send him scampering away, until he looks at the blatant question in Kili’s eyes—Kili’s lips against the corner of his mouth, _We’re all right…_

                “Kili…” It’s only his brother’s name, little more than a sigh, but it’s enough for Kili, who inches closer to him. Overcome by sudden doubt and fear Fili moves backward until his back meets the headboard and he can’t retreat any further. Tension escapes his body as Kili gently places his head on his lap and traces the outline of Fili’s kneecap.

                “We’ll be all right,” Kili murmurs, the familiar refrain settling in Fili’s body until he almost believes it. “Fee…”

                “Don’t…just…” Fili runs his hands over Kili’s hair and shoulders, drinking in the silence between them. In the quiet it feels better and Fili can almost fool himself into thinking that this is right, that this is what he should be doing—Kili sighs, but for once the sound echoes with satisfaction. With the comforting inevitability of gravity, something settles within Fili and he relaxes around Kili’s embrace. “Can we just not talk about this tonight? Just…not tonight,” he finishes lamely. A knot of tension releases as Kili nods.

                “I’m staying,” Kili announces, curling his body so that he’s wrapped around Fili.

                “Fine,” Fili agrees, more from the knowledge that getting Kili to leave will be more trouble than it’s ultimately worth—especially since he’s fairly certain that he’ll lose the fight. “But you’re going to move.”

                “Fine,” Kili grumbles, just before he dives underneath Fili’s covers. Fili jolts when his brother’s arm wraps around his waist, bare skin practically screaming at the presumptuous touch. After a few moments his heartbeat returns to normal and he manages to find a position that doesn’t involve his hand being placed precariously high on Kili’s thigh.

                “Night Fee,” Kili mumbles. His smile is evident in his sleepy voice and Fili rests his head on top of Kili’s, taking every bit of comfort he can in the quiet touch. He’ll have to wake up early, get Kili back into his room before their mother wakes, and there’s still a horrific conversation waiting for him but for tonight, Kili’s arm rests against his waist and Kili’s breath flows across his chest.

                For now, it’s enough.

               

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully it won't take me a month to update again, but no promises! -evil cackle-


	5. It Hurts to Let Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lot of talks, including one drunken phone call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whee, another long time between updates. Bad Doth is bad. Still, hope this was worth the wait.
> 
> Enjoy.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

 

 

**Day –1816**

 

                The bright banners of colleges decorate the halls of the high school which, after today, he’ll most likely never see again. Fili lets his eyes wander over all of them—the gleaming white and silver of Minas Tirith Unversity, the black and white of Orthanc Institute of Technology, deep greens and browns of College of Laketown and—Fili’s heart clenches as his eyes feast on the rich brown, red and gold of Rivendell University. There are few names underneath the insignia of the college—one less since his own name was removed.

                “It’s not too late,” the voice says from behind him. “I’m sure if you talked to the Dean of Admissions and explained your situation they would still make room for you.”

                “It’s done,” Fili sighs, turning to face Thorin. His uncle stands behind him, immaculate as always in an impeccably tailored suit, long dark hair tied at the base of his skull in a dark, sleek ponytail. “Besides, it’s not like I’m never going. It’s just another four years.”

                “Fili…” Thorin’s hand is heavy on his shoulder. Fili keeps his eyes trained on the colors of Rivendell—one of the oldest, most prestigious universities in the country and he’d been accepted. Kili had been the one who’d gotten the envelope from the mail, sprinting into the house as he waved it wildly around.

                “It’s here Fee!” With violently shaking hands Fili had snatched the package from Kili. The paper felt thick underneath his fingers. He’d stared stupidly at the delicate calligraphy of his name etched onto the parchment, the little raised curls of his name and address suddenly unfamiliar to him.

                “Open it!” Kili had demanded from his customary spot at Fili’s elbow as his foot stamped in impatience. Fili glances down at Kili but somehow manages to quiet Kili’s outburst as he stares at the envelope which will hopefully change his whole life.

                There had been a huge party that weekend, the whole of their huge extended family gathering. Fili had thought it was a bit ridiculous but he would be lying if he said that he wasn’t secretly thrilled by all the excitement over him, over something that he, Fili Durin, had done. Kili had somehow managed to talk Bofur into giving him several sips of champagne and beer and had floated around the party, dark eyes bright and cheeks flushed. Even Thorin had managed to grin with pride at his nephew’s accomplishment, setting aside his school loyalties to enjoy in Fili’s glee.

                His mother had sporadically burst into joyous sobs at the sight of him, seizing him around the neck and howling about how proud she was of her little golden boy. Fili had choked underneath her embrace while Kili had screamed with laughter at his discomfort. His father—his father had roamed the whole party, telling anyone who wanted to listen, and a good deal of people who didn’t, about how Rivendell had been the sight for countless historical events and how some of the greatest minds had attended there—His father who had twirled the barbeque fork in his hand as he’d raved about statistics for graduates from Rivendell, who’d argued in booming voices with Thorin about which college held more prestige, the family’s customary Khazad-dum College or Fili’s unique choice of Rivendell University.

                His father…Fili clenches his fist tightly around his father’s college ring, worn on a chain around his neck. The jewel digs into the soft skin of his palm. It’s only been two months and yet…It seems an eternity since that morning when his father had left, pausing to tousle the hair of a half-asleep Kili, who had growled and swatted at him. Fili’s never asked if Kili regrets not saying goodbye that morning.

                “Just until Kili graduates,” Fili insists as he glances over at Thorin. He catches Thorin’s eyebrow creeping skeptically up his forehead and firmly shakes his head. “I’m going on hiatus, not retiring.”

                “No one’s asking you to do this,” Thorin says. “You know that, right?”

                “I know,” Fili answers, thinking about his mother’s reaction when he’d told her the news. She’d threatened, begged, pleaded and screamed in turns and he’d simply stood in the kitchen, weathering the storm of her outburst. In the end she’d simply hugged him and he’d winced as her shoulders shook.

                “My sweet boy,” she’d murmured, running her hands over his hair and cheeks. “My sweet, brave man.”

                Kili had remained in his room through the outburst, sequestered away like he had been for the past two months. He only saw Kili when his brother emerged from the cavern of his room for meals, for a trip to the bathroom, or in the painfully awkward ride to school, Kili leaned up against the passenger door, as far as he can possibly get from Fili, his dark eyes trained on a spot far on the horizon. Fili knocked once, in warning, not request. He knew by now that if he waited for permission, Kili would keep him languishing for days. He turned the knob and stepped inside.

                Kili looked up at him from the math book open on his desk. Fili’s eyes flitted down to the single piece of loose-leaf paper, smudges and scribbles decorating the lined paper. He frowned—just a few months ago Kili would have come running to him for help and Fili would have given in, even with the knowledge that he was most likely going to end up doing most of his brother’s work. A selfish part of him missed being the person to which his brother ran to for help.

                “You heard?” Fili asked, the question already useless. Of course Kili heard. Most likely everyone within several blocks heard his mother’s yelling.

                “You’re not going to Rivendell in the fall.” It’s a statement instead of a question and Fili nods in response. “Why? It’s all you’ve wanted for forever.”

                “There’s…more important things than that now,” Fili says, sitting on the corner of Kili’s desk. He reaches out to play with Kili’s hair, an old, unconscious habit, but a venomous glare from his little brother stops his hand in mid-air. “I’m needed here.”

                Kili glares up at him, the large shadow of a bruise still lurking underneath his right eye. Kili’s fighting, his suspension and withdrawal—“You’re not,” Kili flatly states, and hunches his shoulders as he turns back to his math homework. Kili clearly means to ignore him and the dismissal stings, enough so that Fili remains perched on Kili’s desk, unwilling to crawl out of his thirteen year old brother’s room like a rejected prom date.

                Kili sighs, heavy and disapproving with all the subtlety of an irate teenager, which is to say, none. Fili rolls his eyes and peers over his brother’s shoulder, sharp eyes easily catching an error in Kili’s work. “That’s wrong,” he points, finger landing on the offending problem. He hopes, a second too late, that his voice sounded helpful rather than condescending.

                “Screw you,” Kili says, his voice striking deep with a bite that’s only been recently acquired. Fili draws back, almost leaves but something makes him linger a second longer. Fortunate, because Kili slumps, even as he shoves the book at Fili, the frayed corner hitting him hard in his thigh. “Where?” Fili tries to hide the grin which tugs at his mouth as he swings off the desk and stands over Kili, patiently walking his stubborn brother through the finer points of eighth grade mathematics. _I’m needed here,_ Fili thinks, nodding in approval as Kili scrawls the correct answer, and the sharp pain of regret seems somehow lessened.

                Thorin’s heavy sigh brings Fili’s full attention back to his uncle. “I wish that I could change your mind.”

                “Too late,” Fili replies, squaring his shoulders as his mother and little brother appear at the end of the hallway. “You know that stubbornness runs in our family.”

                “Unfortunately,” Thorin replies, sweeping a hand over his hair as he nods to the rest of his family as they draw even with them. Fili watches his mother’s face, sees the careful way she deliberately avoids looking at the banners. She still doesn’t agree with his decision, still doesn’t think that it’s right, but Fili looks at Kili, his normally tangled and wild hair slicked down. Rebellious dark eyes glare at him as Kili tugs at the tie knotted around his neck and it’s obvious that Kili blames him for his current discomfort.

                “Can we just hurry up?” Kili mutters, running a finger underneath the red silk garment. “I have stuff I need to do.”

                “Nothing’s more important than this,” Thorin sternly reprimands, his hand clenching on Kili’s shoulder in a steel grip. “This is your family.”

                Kili’s mutinous glare says plainly that his brother feels that there are a great deal of things he deems more important than Fili’s Awards Ceremony. It’s lucky that Thorin’s already turned his attention to greeting another parent, someone he knows from his dealings at Erebor, no doubt, otherwise Kili would undoubtedly be receiving the heavy weight of their uncle’s hand to the back of his head.

                “Stop it,” Fili mutters, holding Kili’s wrist and falling a pace behind their elders. “Or else you’ll get it from Thorin.”

                “Don’t care,” Kili insists, only the nervous roll of his shoulders giving away his lie. “This is stupid.”

                “Thanks,” Fili snaps. Ridiculous really, that he could get offended that his little brother thinks that his Senior Awards ceremony is stupid but he _is_. Perhaps it’s because it’s the last piece of academic recognition he’ll get for several years. Perhaps it’s because he wants something good to cling to after the past two months of misery. Or maybe it’s just because he selfishly wants the world to acknowledge him one last time before he fades into obscurity. Whatever the reason Fili drops Kili’s wrist like he’s been scalded.

                “I didn’t mean like that!” Kili insists. When Fili doesn’t look at him Kili takes matters into his own hands by yanking painfully on Fili’s tie, causing his older brother to stumble and almost choke. When Fili finally regains his balance and full breathing capacity he whips his head around to glare at Kili, who meets his narrowed eyes with his own irate stare, lower lip petulantly jutting outwards.

                “It’s fine, let it go,” Fili mutters as he readjusts his tie. Just a few years ago he and Kili would have epic screaming battles, huge affairs which would threaten to shatter windows with the forces of their bellows. Now, after everything, after all the sobbing and late nights, his mother’s red-rimmed eyes and his uncle’s near constant presence, Fili finds that arguing with Kili has just lost its appeal.

                “Shut up!” Kili demands, his new brittle edges unexpectedly flaring. _Someone’s going to get cut to pieces on him,_ Fili thinks, before he realizes that that person will most likely be him. He bites back his instinctive, and un-clever response of _No, you shut up_ and forces himself to look into Kili’s chocolate eyes, flashing with anger. “I just meant that it’s stupid for me to listen to all these people that don’t matter. All I care about is you.”

                As far as compliments go, Fili’s gotten better—just thinking about the effluent praise from one of his recommendation letters still makes him blush—but coming now, from Kili, it somehow means more. Kili, who’s changed from a sweet, cuddly puppy into a vicious, snapping beast, Kili who, even though he tries to hide it, still looks at him as though he has all the answers, Kili who starts fights at school and then tries to hide the bruises from him…Fili’s fingers itch to ruffle Kili’s hair but he doesn’t want to ruin the impeccably tamed coif. He settles for an affectionate squeeze of his brother’s bony shoulder.

                “Two hours and that’s it, I promise. And when you graduate I’ll sit through your boring as hell awards ceremony.”

                 “Won’t get one,” Kili mumbles, his shoulder twitching underneath Fili’s touch. “Too stupid.”

                “Shut up,” Fili orders. Kili’s not stupid, he just doesn’t see the necessity of school or find the pleasure in academia that Fili does. “I know that you’ll get one of these—you never pass up a chance to make me miserable.” Kili ducks his head but Fili’s already caught sight of the swift grin which he’s missed so much. “Besides, I’m sure that there will be plenty of boring archery awards ceremonies—you remember how long the Opening Ceremony was at the last Olympics?”

                “That’s different, you idiot,” Kili tartly corrects him, but without the venomous edge to his tone. Fili tilts his head towards the ceiling, not wanting Kili to catch his tiny grin of triumph.

                Tonight, there will be pain as he accepts the academic awards which he’s earned through four years of hard work. He will watch his friends walk across the stage at graduation while knowing that when autumn comes they won’t be in town anymore, dispersed to their separate colleges. He will remain at home, while his grades and SAT scores gather dust and he’ll pray that his mind doesn’t atrophy.

                But maybe, just maybe, it will all be worth it, if he can keep Kili smiling and whole.

 

 

**Day 18**

 

                Another long day at Erebor Inc. and Fili’s dragging himself up the stairs again. Those who think that working at Erebor is a nine to five job must be insane. Today he arrived at his small cubicle at seven thirty in the morning and now it’s sometime after ten that he’s dragging in the door. He feels a sudden stab of envy towards Kili, with his job working in construction for one of Erebor’s contractors. He gets to go home at dusk and doesn’t even have to bother to get out of bed on rainy days.

                Thorin’s demands have become stricter and more desperate this summer, like his uncle finally realizes that in the autumn Fili’s going to be leaving for several years. Fili’s already found an apartment complex and after a tense conversation, Thorin’s accepted the logic of living at Rivendell so that Fili can take summer classes. Kili sulked when Fili first told him that he wouldn’t be returning for the summer break. They haven’t talked about it since…well…Since.

                Fili opens his door and steps inside his darkened room. His brow immediately wrinkles in confusion—something’s different, he can just sense it. He flicks on the lamp, pupils rapidly contracting in the muted light. Blue eyes swiftly scan over his room, almost instantly lighting on what’s different.

                A lump waits for him in his bed, dark hair barely visible over the light blue color of his comforter. Fili bites back a fond smile—his heart shouldn’t be glowing as much as it is, like it’s trying to brighten the whole house with its warmth. Kili snuffles in his sleep, face burrowing deeper into his pillow. Fili kicks off his shoes and takes his tie off without bothering to unknot it before he sits on the edge of the bed, hand already reaching out to brush Kili’s shoulder.

                At the first skin on skin contact Kili easily rolls over, brown eyes blinking away sleep as he blearily peers up at him. The casual intimacy of Kili’s hair spread across his pillow, long limbs sprawled across his sheets, tunnels deep into the part of him which hasn’t been touched in years, the part that he locked up after Noah. It feels good, better than he wants it to, the locked door opening and dusty sunlight pouring into a darkened hallway. Kili smiles at him and Fili smiles back.

                “You have a bed of your own,” Fili murmurs, surprised when his hand creeps forward a few inches so that his fingers brush against Kili’s.

                “Yours is more comfortable,” Kili mumbles, a lazy smile flitting across his face as he relaxes into the mattress. Fili’s not sure about the logic behind Kili’s decision, but he can’t argue with the final result, especially when Kili’s hand tugs at his wrist.

                “I’ll wrinkle my shirt,” Fili absently protests, even as he props himself up on an elbow and looks down at his brother. Kili grins up at him, teeth gleaming in the dull light of the room. His brother doesn’t care about his shirt, doesn’t care that the thin fabric of his dress pants will eventually press uncomfortable lines into Fili’s skin—Kili cares about getting what he wants. And as Fili slumps down until his nose presses against Kili’s forehead, Kili lets out a long, satisfied sigh. Fili can _feel_ his brother’s grin, sparks igniting in the air. He slides his body underneath the comforter and Kili’s warmth starts to spread to his body.

                “Hard day at the office?” Fili rolls his eyes, biting at his lower lip. He’s convinced that Kili can feel his smiles and he doesn’t want to give his brother the satisfaction of knowing how much that little, clichéd question pleases him. Kili’s arms wriggle around his body, wrapping around his torso.

                “Like you care,” Fili scoffs after a beat, forcing his body to relax into Kili’s touch. His kneecap presses against the soft hair on Kili’s shin, the contact belying the seemingly harsh words.

                “Sort of,” Kili yawns, his jaw stretching so wide that Fili can hear a subtle click.

                Fili rolls his eyes but relaxes into the fingernails lightly scratching up and down his spine. His shoulders roll into the sensation and he hums lightly in satisfaction as Kili’s nails manage to find the exact right spot. The scent of Kili’s shampoo is heavy against his nose, light vanilla and coconut. Fili inhales deeply and his body loosens further, the tension from being cramped in a boardroom with Thorin all day disappearing underneath Kili’s scratching.

                “Fee?” Without opening his eyes that have drifted closed in the past few moments, Fili hums, raising an eyebrow in question. The silence which follows is enough for him to blearily raise his eyelids to half-mast. Kili’s worried face greets him and Fili opens his eyes fully, taking in the furrow of the dark eyebrows and the nervous chewing of that full lower lip. Fili catches a flash of white teeth and a hot surge of lust, incompatible with the languid comfort which had previously gripped him, floods through his body.

                “Can I?” Submerged in his lazy haze, Fili almost asks what Kili’s talking about but then he sees Kili’s fathomless eyes focused on his lips. Unconsciously, Fili licks them, uncomfortable with the close scrutiny. Kili noticeably swallows and Fili feels the worst sort of satisfaction pulse through him—he should _not_ feel this pleased with his little brother’s wide-eyed gaze but he _does_ and in order to stop thinking, Fili wordlessly nods. His stomach drops to the floor as Kili, eyes still focused on his lips, pushes forward.

                The tip of Kili’s nose brushes against his, the touch chaste and achingly soft. Fili’s breath stutters as he struggles to keep his eyes focused on Kili’s face, his vision blurring as Kili tilts his head. His chest feels too tight and his fingers spasm on Kili’s wrist.

                The first touch of Kili’s lips against his is little more than a glancing breath but it’s enough to make Fili’s breath hitch. Kili’s lower lip tickles underneath his upper lip, sparse stubble catching against the soft hairs of his moustache. Fili’s lips part as Kili suckles on the flesh he has prisoner in his mouth.

                _You’re a good kisser…_

This time it’s so much better because he’s fully conscious and even though that means that he’s aware that it’s Kili, _his brother,_ he’s kissing—he can still savor the spit-slick texture of Kili’s lower lip, the slight huff of breath against his skin, smell the faint scent of soap which still clings to Kili’s face. The battle to keep his eyes open finally becomes too much and Fili sighs as sight disappears and all that’s left is the sound of Kili’s breath, the feel of Kili’s lips, the taste of Kili on the very tip of his tongue.

                Never has Fili needed oxygen more than in this moment and never has it seemed so unimportant. Instead of air, he just wants his lungs to breathe in _Kili Kili Kili_ , until his body can’t expand anymore. Kili _is_ a good kisser, it wasn’t just his alcohol-infused brain which arrived at that conclusion, though the realization makes Fili want to hunt down Kili’s kissing partners. He remembers a string of girls swiftly disappearing into the maw of Kili’s room and a rumpled shirt collar covering up a dark bruise on Kili’s neck.

                The memory causes a dark stirring of possessiveness in him and Fili tightens his grip on Kili’s wrist, pulling his brother’s hand up so that Kili’s palm rests flat against his chest. Kili’s fingers curl and Fili can feel the harsh bite of fingernails through the layer of his shirt. Fili’s mouth opens wider and Kili instantly responds. A thrill of pleasure shivers through him when Fili discovers that his assumption was correct—Kili is _not_ a passive kisser, tongue easily slipping into his mouth and sweeping over every surface. Kili’s tongue curls around his and the taste of mint toothpaste invades his mouth.

                A moan escapes Fili’s lips, directly into Kili’s mouth, as Kili’s free hand slides up his back to tangle in his hair. Fingers card through the blond locks before they tighten, an unspoken demand in the hold. Fili’s lips part further at the tug on his scalp and he recognizes Kili’s impatience and selfishness within the pull. Kili, who never waits to have his desires fulfilled, Kili, who’s grown used to having his every whim carried out, usually by Fili himself…Those soft lips brush past his goatee and moustache, finding a spot underneath his chin that’s free of hair. Fili bites back the groan which threatens, knowing that the sound would only encourage Kili.

                “Kili,” he instead breathes and instantly recognizes that he was a fool for thinking that practically gasping his brother’s name would be a deterrent. Kili’s teeth nip at his skin and _where_ did Kili learn this and when did it happen? “Kili, stop,” Fili finally groans out, his wrecked voice little more than a whisper.

                Kili hears him however because he pulls his flushed face away from Fili’s neck, if only to glare at him. Fili tries to return Kili’s gaze but it’s difficult when those gorgeous chocolate irises are almost overtaken by the onyx of Kili’s pupils. Not for the first time, Fili’s grateful that he’s wearing dress pants—the fabric offers more room than the denim of jeans does and this gives him time to shift his pelvis so that there’s no danger of his half-hard cock pressing against Kili.

                There’s only so far he’s willing to go tonight and Kili’s already toed the line—and in true Kili fashion, was preparing to stomp all over it, right before sprinting away. And the worst part is, Kili’s not even aware that such a line exists in the first place.

                “Problem?” Kili asks, his voice tense and tight. Fili shakes his head just before his hand reaches out to cup Kili’s cheek. Stubble scratches against his palm as Fili’s index finger caresses the smooth dip just before Kili’s tragus. “Well then why’d you stop?”

                Fili’s thumb presses against Kili’s plush lips, silencing his brother before he has a chance to build any steam towards a real temper tantrum. “Just…this is good for now,” Fili whispers. The words aren’t much but there must be something in his eyes which Kili can read, because even though his brother sighs in clear disappointment, his eyes close and he presses his face against Fili’s sternum. Fili’s arm drapes around Kili, running the ends of Kili’s hair over one fingertip. Lots of split-ends, he observes disinterestedly. Kili needs a haircut.

                Silence descends, this time with a brooding, uncomfortable quality. Fili can read the beginnings of a sulk in Kili’s refusal to speak. He doesn’t blame him, he knows _exactly_ what Kili wants, because he wants it too—he wants to continue, to not stop kissing Kili until his brother’s lips are swollen from his attentions, until his hair is tangled from thrashing his head in pleasure—But it’s too soon. Too soon to throw away his responsibilities, to allow himself to forget that the lingering taste on his lips that he keeps chasing with the tip of his tongue is that of _Kili._ If he were being truly responsible, he would admit that it’s too soon for this, his arm around Kili, his brother’s face pressing into his shirt, creating a damp, humid patch from his breath.

                “Do you want this?” Kili finally asks, his voice little more than a hoarse mumble against Fili’s chest. Fili’s brow furrows as he takes hold of Kili’s shoulders and pulls away just far enough to see Kili’s face. His brother refuses to look at him, stubbornly casting his eyes downward.

                “What are you…what do you mean?” Fili thinks that he can most likely guess what Kili’s hinting at but he can’t believe that Kili would be that deliberately dense.

                “This,” Kili mutters, jerking his chin towards Fili. “Do…do you want…”

                “Shut up,” Fili whispers harshly, his arms pulling Kili flush against his body. Though he whines in protest Kili follows Fili’s maneuvering easily enough. They come to rest with their chests pressed against each other while some of Kili’s hair finds its way into Fili’s mouth. Fili shifts his thigh and sinful desire heats his blood as he feels a distinct hardness against the muscle.

                Perhaps…Any other time he wouldn’t but the kisses and the exhaustion and Kili’s sudden petulance have worked over his brain to the point where squirming against Kili so that his own half-hard cock pressing into his brother seems like a good idea. Kili gasps against his skin and Fili soothes away the shudder which runs through his body as lust and guilt plague him in unequal measures.

                “Don’t ask stupid questions,” he growls, pressing a hard kiss to the top of Kili’s head.

                Fili will think, in hindsight, how idiotic he was to imagine that he would never have that conversation again.

 

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

               

**Day 512**

It’s disconcerting for Fili when he has to tighten his belt one notch further. He stares at the well-worn leather, the hole which had been worn smooth and discolored by so much use, and then at the buckle through the next hole. A quizzical brow raises and he shifts his pants on his hips, testing.

                A trip to Rivendell’s gym confirms what he’s already guessed—he’s managed to drop close to ten pounds within the past two weeks. He walks out, past all of the healthy athletes, whose diets most likely do not consist of cigarettes and coffee. Fili tries to rationalize his choice in eating habits to himself as he slouches against the brick building, flicking the lighter to his cigarette. Not enough money for proper eating, the fact that Rivendell’s dining hall likes to feature strange vegetarian dishes so unlike the hearty meat and potatoes that he’s used to, exhaustion for the coffee and stress for the cigarettes—thousands of completely rational sounding explanations and yet not one of them is close to the truth.

                He just doesn’t feel like eating.

                It’s been common enough throughout his life—he dropped fifteen pounds after his father died and only realized it when Thorin sat him down and demanded that he either take better care of himself or see a therapist. During stressful times at Erebor he would cut back to little more than a bagel and copious amounts of lukewarm office coffee.

                Fili still wonders how Kili realized what was happening. But in his junior year of high school Kili took to sneaking into Erebor, always while he was supposed to be in school. Sometimes all the warning Fili would get was the sensation of breath on the back of his neck before Kili was whisking him out the door, right under Thorin’s watchful eyes. Fili had protested, violently, but had always gone along, and even gotten to the point where he looked forward to Kili’s surprise visits.

                At the time he’d thought it was nothing more than a diversion for Kili, a way for his brother to skive off of work and get a free meal at the same time. Later, when his brother had been lamenting his diminished appearance over Christmas break, Fili had started to wonder—about how Kili’s visits had always seemed to coincide with the most stressful times at Erebor, how they’d always gone out for lunch, never anything else…Fili wishes, suddenly and irrationally, that Kili was here to whisk him out of class and demand that he come to this new place that he’d been _dying_ to eat at.

                It’s impossible, but still nice to dream about.

                Instead, Fili makes a concentrated effort to eat, sometimes forcing the food down his throat even when he feels like he’s going to be sick. Bilbo helps—he has a knack for cooking and manages to create concoctions which don’t sound entirely nauseating to Fili. He cuts back to just four cigarettes a day and tries to go to bed before three in the morning. He does _not_ look at Kili’s Facebook page. He does _not_ text Kili. He does everything he can to lead A Healthy Well-Balanced Life.

                It all goes to shit when Kili calls.

                In retrospect, Fili will think that he deserved what happened next. Balin’s voice echoes in his mind, speaking platitudes that Fili never wanted to hear: _Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice…_ But, like a moth to flame, Fili has always been drawn to his own destruction, has always been drawn to Kili, and it’s an easy decision to answer the phone when it rings one night.

                From the music which plays loudly enough to scramble Kili’s words, as well as the distinct slur to Kili’s voice, Fili instantly knows that it was a bad idea. Still, he clutches his phone, hoping against reason that somehow, everything will be fine.

                “What are you doing?” Kili demands. Fili’s fingers tighten and he has to take a deep breath to keep from screaming.

                “I’m working right now.” It’s an effort to keep his voice steady and not to scream but Fili thinks that he manages it extremely well. “What are you doing?”

                Kili snorts and Fili thinks that he knows the exact expression that currently resides on Kili’s face—the stupid little twist his features take on when something amuses him while intoxicated, the little lift of his upper lip, the raise of his right eyebrow. “Not working,” Kili drawls, and Fili rolls his eyes because isn’t that obvious.

                “Isn’t that kind of a bad idea?” he asks, knowing even as he speaks that he’s treading on dangerous ground. “Don’t you have class tomorrow morning?”

                A pause and Fili waits for the storm to break. “So?” Kili finally asks, a brittle edge to his words. “Your point?”

                By this time he’s stomping on thin ice and if they were still together then Fili would have stopped a long time ago. But the fact remains that they’re not together and Fili feels petulant about that, despite the fact that it was him who made the break. So he pushes and continues, seized by the cruel desire to hear Kili’s temper break. “Well, do you think that getting drunk is really what you should be doing on a school night?”

                Kili barely misses a beat before he sneers, “All right _Mom._ You still going to try to tell me how to run my life?”

                “I’m not doing that,” Fili answers patiently, and why did he think this was a good idea? “I’m just saying that maybe you should just go to bed.”

                “Maybe you should stop pretending like you care so much,” Kili snarls, all hints of friendliness gone from his voice.

                “I do care,” Fili says. He doubts that in his current state Kili will pick up on the undertone of pain in his voice and that’s a good thing.

                “Yeah, I’ve seen how much you care.” Fili knows his brother, knows that the words come from a place of hurt, anger, and shame, but it doesn’t lessen the sting that they deliver. “Maybe if you cared so much you shouldn’t have broken up with me.”

                The taunt is clumsy and obvious but it conceals a deeper plea— _Please reconsider._ Kili’s voice, shrill and desperate that night… _Please don’t, I won’t do it anymore, I’m sorry, Fili please don’t…_ It’s the plea instead of the insult which twists Fili’s emotions. He glances helplessly up at the ceiling, wishing that the blank white plaster held all the answers. “What did you want?” Fili finally asks. He knows that his voice sounds small and defeated but he doesn’t think that Kili, in his current state, will notice.

                “You never did tell me why you broke up with me.” Fili bites back the words which long to escape, none of which will help the current situation. He doubts whether Kili actually wants to know the answer. The venom in his brother’s voice speaks volumes—Kili wants him to hurt. It’s unfortunate that he’s succeeding.

                “Does it really matter?” His voice is even without a hint of pain. Good.

                “Maybe not to you but it fucking matters to me.” Kili’s voice is ragged with pain and Fili winces at the catch.

                “Knowing won’t change anything.” Maybe Kili thinks that if he knows the reason he can fix the problem but they’ve gone far beyond simple cause and effect.

                “Fuck you, you owe me that.” And they’re back to that argument. What makes it worse is that Kili’s demand makes a certain warped sense to Fili. The old desire, to spoil and pamper Kili, rears its ugly head and Fili clenches his fist so tightly that his fingernails bite deep into his palm.

                “Kili, you’re drunk. I’m going to hang up now.”

                “Wait!” Kili’s voice sounds in his ear, suddenly high in its anxiety. The sound is reminiscent enough of how he sounded two weeks ago that Fili pauses in hanging up. Maybe he does owe him this, to listen to the rage breaking over him, as relentless as the ocean’s high tide. “Just…don’t hang up, please.”

                Fili remains silent but the phone stays against his ear and for a moment all he hears is the quiet sound of Kili’s breathing on the end of the line. He closes his eyes and for a moment he and Kili are just finishing up a conversation after a long day, both of them tired by the day’s efforts and content just to relax in the knowledge of the other on the opposite end. Then Kili speaks and the spell is broken.

                “So how’s what’s his name?”

                “That’s none of your business.” Kili’s never known when to stop pushing, never known when to stop crossing the line.

                “No really, I’m interested to know. You broke up with me for him so doesn’t that make him my business?”

                “I’m serious Kili, if you keep on bringing him up then I’m hanging up. I’m not going to talk about him with you.”

                “Just tell me,” Kili demands, though his voice wobbles. “Why did you have to do it?”

                “You know why,” Fili sighs, hands pawing through his pockets in search of a cigarette. He stops once he remembers that he smoked them all earlier that day and forgot to get another pack.

                “The real reason, not the bullshit self-sacrificing crap you told me. You just suddenly decided that I wasn’t good enough for you.” The hurt is unmistakable in Kili’s voice but Fili desperately wishes that he’d never begun this conversation, that he’d never answered the phone. Why did he think that this time would be different?

                “Look Kili…” Fili tries to begin.

                “No, you know what? Fuck you, because I would have given you the whole fucking world and you know it and you decided that it wasn’t good enough for you and you wanted to run off with someone who could _never_ give you what I could, _never_ love you like I did—“

                “ _Enough_!” The shout is enough to tear his voice but it silences Kili, at least for the moment. “Fucking…just stop it Kili,” Fili finishes, too drained to make his demands with any force.

                “Why? Truth hurt too much?” Kili goads. Anyone else would just hear the petty cruelty in his voice but Fili has known his brother for longer and better than anyone and knows enough to listen to the frisson of agony underneath the harsh words. He knows that even though Kili’s intention is to hurt him, Kili’s causing just as much pain to himself.

                “Stop it,” Fili whispers, wishing that he’d never picked up the phone, wishing that he could pull Kili close to his chest, wishing that this conversation wasn’t even necessary, that he could wake up in the morning to a text from Kili and that everything would be fine… “Kili, this isn’t helping anything.”

                “Did you ever love me?”

                Kili’s whispered question finally breaks Fili’s resolve and shatters the walls around his heart that he thought were so cunningly created. “How…how can you even ask that?” It feels like all the blood’s rushed out of his body, leaving him weak and dizzy as he falls back against the couch. “Kili, why...why would you _ever_ think that?”

                “Because if you’d loved me you wouldn’t have left me for someone else!”

                “ _I didn’t!”_ All the blood returns to his body, pounding in his ears as Fili shouts into the phone.  Everything disappears, all of his caution gone in his need to make Kili understand— _he was loved, always loved, still loved—_ but—“I broke up with you because I couldn’t stand fighting with you anymore!”

                It takes a few moments with only the sound of his ears ringing for Fili to realize that Kili’s hung up on him. It’s ridiculous but he can swear that he can feel his brother’s fury radiating across the state, vibrating through the telephone lines, to resonate in the palm of his hand. It becomes worse when he recalls the anguish in Kili’s voice, the doubting question— _Did you ever love me?_

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

Six months pass before he speaks to Kili again.

 

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-


	6. My Sweetest Downfall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Fili makes a dumb decision and Kili is generally just dumb.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the extra, extra long wait...For some reason this chapter was fighting me every step of the way.   
> But I'm relatively pleased with this.   
> Enjoy? 
> 
> (It was also brought to my attention that I needed to change a few tiny details in previous chapters to make everything mesh better, so...yes. It's nothing major, just a few continuity details. Also, mad thanks to my awesome roommate, who came up with several integral ideas to this chapter. =P)

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

 

 

**Day 514**

                Temptation finally proves too great and Fili looks at Kili’s Facebook page. It’s more pictures than anything else and Fili narrows his eyes at the grin on Kili’s face in every single one. Kili looks as though he’s having the time of his life but all Fili can think about is the wrecked quality of his voice on the other end of the line. He has the sudden urge to call Kili, see if he's all right, see if he's really as happy as he looks in his pictures— _see if he misses him_ , his treacherous mind whispers. Fili shakes his head hard in an attempt to jolt the thought out of his brain.  

                He recognizes most of the other people in the pictures. Most of them are members of Kili’s archery team. He does _not_ feel jealous about the arm around Kili’s shoulders, belonging to a tan boy with shoulder length dark hair— _Bard_ , his mind identifies. He most certainly doesn’t care about the picture which shows Kili at a restaurant, his head pillowed on a ginger girl’s shoulder, eyes closed as his mouth opens wide in laughter.

                Kili’s allowed to have his own life. He’s _not_ jealous.  

                Fili slaps his laptop closed and lights a cigarette.

 

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

 

**Day 21**

 

                Thorin likes having cookouts during the summer for his employees. His uncle enjoys the slightly less formal atmosphere of the corporation that he inherited from his father and grandfather and normally Fili is in full agreement. It’s a chance for him to relax with people that he’d perhaps like to know better and Thorin always hires Bombur, the city’s best caterer to cook. He’ll usually sneak Kili a beer and spend the day lounging in the elaborately landscaped courtyard of Erebor, watching as his uncle grows progressively more drunk and ridiculous.

                Today, however, is different, and it’s not difficult for Fili to pinpoint the problem. Kili. His brother seems to be avoiding him and whenever their eyes do meet Kili just looks straight through him before deliberately turning away. Fili’s left looking stupidly at the spot his brother used to occupy and wondering exactly what the hell he did to make Kili so irritable.

                He would have thought that pressing Kili against his bedroom door and kissing him senseless before they left would have put a smile on his face. From the way that Kili had clutched at his shoulders and moaned as Fili had insistently licked at his lips, Fili had assumed that Kili was more than enjoying himself. Yet now Kili lounges against a tree with a scowl that could curdle milk on his face.

                “Who pissed in his cornflakes?” Ori asks as he sidles next to Fili. He takes a demure sip from his beer, curiously inclining his head towards Kili.

                “No idea,” Fili sighs, accepting the bottle which Ori hands him. The condensation seeps into his hand and he’s grateful for the small break from the afternoon heat. “He was fine when we left the house, don’t know what got into him afterward.”

                “Just because it’s usually highly entertaining to get him wasted and he’s not even biting,” Ori laments. “I’d try Gimli but he just pukes and passes out.”

                “Well, what do you want me to do about it?” Fili knows that in some convoluted way, Kili’s mood is most likely his fault but he doesn’t like being responsible for every mood swing of his mercurial brother.  

                Ori shrugs. “Fix him?” Fili glares and his cousin raises his hands in surrender. “Look, it was just an idea!”

                “Shitty idea,” Fili comments, and that’s the last which is said about Kili. Still, for the rest of the afternoon he keeps one eye on his brother, watching Kili’s scowl deepen when he talks to several of his cubicle mates. Several times he tries to go to Kili, talk to him, maybe even draw him out of his mood but it’s as though Kili has a sense of when he’s coming. His brother manages to slip away from him every time and eventually Fili gives up. By the time dusk starts to settle on the courtyard Fili’s irritated and just a little drunk and he’s fed up with Kili’s behavior. It’s not often that Kili still chooses to act this way but he’s always been wonderful at playing the spoilt brat.

                Finally, Fili manages to catch him, his fingers wrapping just above Kili’s elbow in case the younger tries storming off. “We’re going home,” Fili orders, no room for disagreement in his voice.

                “Fine,” Kili bites off before his eyes sweep up and down Fili’s body. “Good thing I drove.”

                A thousand sharp remarks rise and die on Fili’s tongue before he storms off towards the parking garage. A moment passes before Kili walks beside him, his brother’s longer legs easily keeping pace with his own. Maybe someone tries to say goodbye to them, Fili’s not quite certain. All he knows is that he wants privacy. He wants Kili to stop being a spoiled brat. He wants to return to earlier in the morning, his hands on either side of Kili’s face, fingers buried deep in the soft brown hair, while Kili’s hands clutched at his shoulders, his elbows, his waist.

                The sickly florescent lighting of the parking garage turns both of them an unpleasant shade of green as they walk towards Kili’s battered Jeep, so out of place amongst the BMW’s, Mercedes’ and Lexus’ of Erebor’s employees. Fili slides into the passenger seat, the cracked leather scratching his thighs. Kili stormily starts the Jeep and roars out of the garage at a speed which probably isn’t safe. Fili slides his sunglasses over his eyes and hopes, as he always does when in Kili’s Jeep, that his brother doesn’t kill them both.

                A sickeningly short time later, they’re pulling into the driveway of their house, tires screeching to a stop on the asphalt. In a single smooth motion Kili throws the brake on, shuts the car off and exits. Without a word he storms towards the house, key already in hand. Fili blinks after him for a moment before he follows; cursing when he realizes that he forgot to unbuckle his seat belt. The screen door slams shut behind Kili and Fili sprints to catch up with him.

                “Kili, wait!” he shouts, chasing the thundering footsteps. He can tell that Kili’s taking the stairs two at a time. He tries to keep pace but Kili’s always been faster than him. Fili ascends to the second floor landing just in time to see Kili’s door slam shut and hear the distinct click of the lock. Frustration bubbles in his chest as Fili strides forward and raps his knuckles against the thin wood.

                “Take a hint,” Kili snaps at him. From the sound of it, he must be leaning directly against the door.

                “What the hell is wrong with you?” Fili asks. He was trying to sound understanding but his voice emerges as outright hostile.

                “Leave me alone.” Kili’s voice is cold steel while Fili feels like a volcano, under immense pressure and about to blow.

                “Not until you tell me what the fuck is going on,” he warns, thumping his fist on the door. He rests his forehead on his arm as he waits for a response. There’s none immediately coming but Fili doesn’t worry about that. Out of the two of them he’s always been the one more skilled in the silent treatment.

                “I don’t want to see you right now.” The words sting more than Fili would imagine, just as the locked door burrows deep inside him, slicing at something he always took for granted. No matter how many times Kili locked his door against their mother or Thorin, he would always, _always_ open for Fili—sometimes reluctantly, sometimes with a whispered curse word, but when Fili asked, Kili would respond. Being locked out, having Kili reject him so utterly—it’s ridiculous but Fili can’t stop turning the idea over in his mind until he’s running useless circles.

                “Kili stop being this way. Just tell me what’s going on.” In eighteen years Kili’s never been like this and the change is enough to send Fili reeling. “Come on Kili, please.”

                “I don’t want to talk to you right now!” Kili shouts, a forceful edge to his voice. “Can you understand that? Just leave me the fuck alone!”

                “Not until you tell me what put you in such a pissy mood.” Fili glares at the door as though he could break it down with sheer force of will. He still hasn’t ruled out breaking the door down with sheer force.

                “You know why.” Fili closes his eyes. He needs to hold his temper now—at least Kili’s talking to him.

                “If I knew why then I wouldn’t be asking you. Would you just tell me?”

                “Like you didn’t know that you were flirting with that girl? Don’t be stupid Fili, it’s not flattering.”

                Kili’s words make Fili pause in confusion. Flirting with a girl? He’s fairly certain that he hasn’t done that since ninth grade. He runs his brain back over the whole of the cookout, starting from the time that they arrived. He had been greeted by a hug from his next door cube mate, Katie, but Kili had been right there at his side…Though come to think of it, after that he hadn’t seen Kili at all…

                “Are you pissed over Katie?” Silence follows his question, which is an answer in and of itself. “Seriously? Did you not notice that she was there with her boyfriend?” Fili breathes but the quiet still remains brittle and uncomfortable. “Kili…God you’re an idiot. Have you forgotten that I’m gay?” He waits, listening for any hints that their mother’s snuck into the house while he was unaware. He hears nothing and continues, voice cautiously pitched lower, just in case. “Did you fucking forget that you were the one I was kissing just before we left? Kee…look, I wouldn’t do that to you—I don’t…I don’t know exactly what we’re doing but you have to know that I would _never_ fuck it—“

                The door opens without warning and Fili stumbles back a step, only to have Kili’s hand fist itself in his t-shirt. Startled by the rapid change, he looks into his brother’s dark eyes. They glitter with lingering anger but more than that…Fili can’t help the shiver which runs through his body as he notes the arousal smoldering in the chocolate orbs.

                He lets himself be yanked unceremoniously into Kili’s room. As soon as the door shuts Fili finds himself caged between Kili’s arms while his little brother leans in towards him. Not for the first time Fili curses the several inches that Kili has on him. Dark hair falls forward and creates a curtain around their faces as Kili inclines his head down, dark eyes flicking over Fili’s face.

                “Sorry,” Kili mumbles. Perhaps he should say something, Fili thinks, but Kili makes talking impossible when his lips messily cover Fili’s. With every nip to his plush mouth, Fili can taste Kili’s residual frustration. Kili catches his lower lip between his canines and tugs, making Fili hiss at the sharp pain. He tries to repay the treatment but Kili jerks away, resting his forehead on Fili’s.

                “I just…I don’t like watching you with anyone else,” Kili breathes, his hand resting heavily on Fili’s hip. His long fingers drift underneath the hem of his shirt, touching the bare skin of Fili’s back and making Fili’s already swimming mind positively hazy. “You’re _mine.”_ Kili’s hot breath wafts over the curve of his ear and Fili barely manages to suppress a groan.  His eyes close for a split second before he opens them to glower at Kili.

                “I’d like to think that I’m my own person so you can—“  Fili’s words are again stifled by Kili’s mouth covering his. Even though Kili’s not allowed him a word edgewide, Fili’s still far from unhappy with the turn of events—kissing Kili gives him the opportunity to cherish the small seed of happiness that Kili’s words plant within him. No one’s ever claimed him before; no one’s ever pushed him against the wall with fire in their touch and heat in their gaze. Kili’s lips and tongue map a hot trail from his lips to his ear down to his neck and Fili digs his fingernails into the back of Kili’s neck. In response, Kili bites at the side of his neck, dull shivers of pain scraping across his skin.

                “No hickeys,” Fili gasps, even as he’s craning his head to the side to give Kili better access. Kili bites harder, teeth sinking into vulnerable flesh as he sucks hard, tongue pressing against the skin between his teeth. “Dammit, I… _ah_ …I bruise really… _fuck_ …” Kili pulls away, grinning triumphantly in the way he always does when he feels as though he’s won another round in the game that, as brothers, they’ve been playing for years. That little bratty tilt of his head always manages to get underneath Fili’s skin, especially now when he’s flushed and panting with arousal, all from Kili’s lips and hands and words.

                Kili likes to think that he’s fast but sometimes he gets too caught up in the satisfaction of winning to realize that perhaps the game isn’t over yet. A rush of air leaves Kili’s lungs as Fili easily reverses their positions, his hands fisted in the fabric of Kili’s sleeveless shirt. He has to push his whole weight against Kili to keep him pinned but that just makes it easier for him to lean against his brother, licking into Kili’s mouth. He stands on his toes for a brief moment before his legs start to feel the strain. Instead he drags Kili’s face down to his, teeth clacking together as they try to find a proper angle.

                Kili’s hands seem to be everywhere at once, on his shoulder, his elbow, around his wrists, his chest, his hips. Fili smirks against Kili’s lips, satisfied in the certainty that he’s managed to regain the upper hand. That’s before Kili pushes forward and Fili stumbles backward, instinctively grabbing Kili’s waist to regain his balance. He pulls at the same moment as Kili’s stepping forward and their bodies collide—

                Fili’s eyes roll as he feels Kili’s hard length pressing into his thigh and from the strangled moan in his ear, he can guess that he and Kili are in the same predicament. _“Fuck,”_ Kili groans, his head resting on Fili’s shoulder, tongue flicking out to tease his earlobe. “Fili… _please…”_

                And despite all of the sirens screaming in Fili’s head, telling him _Dangerous too soon stop too much too soon stop stop stop,_ despite knowing that after he takes this step he’ll never have a chance of saving either one of them, despite knowing that only ruination lies ahead, Fili nods, his fingers already slipping underneath Kili’s shirt.

                _“Yes,”_ he whispers, or at least, he thinks he whispers. Maybe he only thinks his affirmative response, maybe it’s obvious in the set of his body, the purpose of his fingers. Maybe Kili already knows what he’s going to do because Kili’s fingers are suddenly brushing his, shaking as he pulls his shirt over his stomach, over his head, to flutter uselessly to the floor.

                Fili sucks in a breath, nostrils flaring as he tries to quell the dizzying combination of terror and lust pounding through his veins, into his heart and out to his extremities. His hand rests on Kili’s ribs, warm skin underneath his palm. A safe touch, a chaste touch, at least until his fingers start to inch towards the center of Kili’s chest, disturbing the black hairs which cover his brother’s lightly tanned torso. Fili doesn’t look at Kili’s face, too worried about what he’ll find within those mesmerizing eyes. Instead he watches the slow creep of his fingers towards a rosebud nipple, pebbled and erect.

                The gasp which Kili lets out sounds positively musical as his dark eyelashes rest against his cheek. His head lolls backward and, giving into temptation, Fili leans forward and runs his tongue over the skin of Kili’s throat. A soft sound, something between a yelp and a groan, jumps from Kili’s mouth as his little brother stumbles backwards. The backs of his knees collide with the edge of the bed and Kili falls backward, body splayed on the mattress.

                Fili pauses then, ignoring the arousal humming in his blood, compelling him to action. His breathing quickens as his eyes feast on the body before him, spread out like a prize. Kili’s skin is a dark olive against his light sheets, dark hair fanned out on the rumpled bedspread. A light flush sits on his cheeks, growing darker as Fili’s eyes roam hungrily over his body.

                “Aren’t…aren’t you going to come here?” Kili finally whispers, reaching out a shaking hand towards him. Fili links their fingers together, squeezing the thin digits of Kili’s hand tightly as he lowers himself to rest on his elbow above Kili’s body.

                He carefully presses his thigh against Kili’s groin, heart fluttering at how Kili’s head tilts backward as a groan escapes his swollen lips. Fili’s not positive whether his hips roll down or if Kili presses up, but in the end it doesn’t matter—their groins collide, heat from their pricks still blazing even underneath the layers of clothes which separate their skin. Fili’s lips messily slide over Kili’s face, worshipping every surface which they touch. Kili pants brokenly into his mouth, hands sliding over his back and tugging at his shirt.

                Goosebumps prickle across his skin as cool air wafts over his back. Fili’s spine curls, pressing his chest into Kili’s, the bones of his brother’s ribs pushing into his abdomen. Kili is _hot,_ so very warm against him and Fili rests his forehead in the crook of Kili’s neck as he mindlessly rolls his hips forward.

                “Fili,” Kili whispers into his hair as his arms wrap around Fili’s shoulders. “Fili, _please…”_

                Fili pulls back and stares into Kili’s eyes. The dark brown is almost swallowed by the black of his pupils as Kili shifts his hips against him, seeking any sort of friction. His fingers stroke down the sides of Kili’s face, down to his neck and chest.  Kili whimpers, his hips restlessly churning as he bites mercilessly on his lower lip, eyes squeezed shut.

                Fili leans forward pressing a soft kiss to Kili’s lips, coaxing Kili to relax by long laves of his tongue across the abused flesh. Sweat beads delicately on the curve of Kili’s upper lip and Fili licks it off, tongue tracing Kili’s Cupid’s bow.  “Relax,” Fili murmurs, heart clenching as he looks down at Kili, the lean body laid out for him—how many times has he dreamed of exactly this?

                A low whine interrupts his thoughts and Fili turns his gaze to Kili’s face, surprise lighting his features when he sees Kili ruthlessly gnawing on his lips. Fili’s thumb sweeps over his mouth, Kili’s tongue flicking out to tease at the callous on the pad. Fili moans into Kili’s mouth when his face is dragged down for a sloppy kiss, Kili’s fingers tangled in the damp hair at the back of his head.

                “Fili,” Kili pants once their lips part. “Fili, Fili…” Fili leans into the caress of Kili’s hand on the side of his face, eyes closing as Kili breathes his name. “God, Fili…”

                “Actually, I’m just going by Fili now,” Fili mumbles, pressing a soft kiss to Kili's nose, a smile crossing his features as he waits for Kili to get the joke. It takes just a moment but eventually Kili groans, twisting his fingers in Fili’s hair in punishment. Somehow their mouths end up connected, tongues dancing around each other.

                “Come on Fee,” Kili whines, hips rolling up into Fili’s while his hands try to pull his already rumpled shirt over his head. With difficulty and no minimal amount of contorting Fili manages to yank his shirt off entirely, hips pushing down as Kili’s hands move over the planes of his chest, fingers carding through the soft curls on his pectorals. Kili’s whisper of _“Fee_ …” sends a shudder through his body and when Fili looks down at Kili he sees his own frantic desire mirrored back at him.

                “Come on,” Kili cajoles, and with that his long fingers wrap around Fili’s wrist, guiding his fingers to the insistent bulge in his shorts. Fili ghosts his fingers over Kili’s fly and then deliberately presses his palm upwards. He thinks that if it were possible to bottle Kili’s desperate, strangled mewl, then he could survive off of that sound for the rest of his life.

                He hasn’t felt this sort of excitement rutting against someone’s thigh since his last year of high school, when he had finally kissed his first boyfriend, Skylar, in the locker room after soccer practice. They’d made out in the backseat of his Challenger, humping against each other until they were coming in their jeans. Fili thought that he’d grown older and maybe more sophisticated in that time, but now, with his dick pressing against Kili’s hard thigh, he’s not so sure.

                Kili’s thrusts become more insistent, the hard line of his dick pressing against Fili’s hand. Hot breath washes over Fili’s cheek as the brunette clutches him closer, fingernails scratching light furrows into his shoulders. “Fuck, fuck,” Kili chants into his ear, hips bucking up into Fili’s hand. “Fili…fuck, I…more, come on…”

                “You sure?” Fili finds himself asking, his voice hoarse and ragged.

                It’s the wrong question, he knows that the second it’s out of his mouth. Kili’s eyes snap open, already narrowed in irritation. “The fuck kind of stupid question is that?” he asks, harsh grating demands replacing the soft breathiness of before.

                Explanations and apologies leap to his lips, thousands of words he could say…and they would only make matters worse, Fili realizes. When he lowers his lips to Kili’s throat the irritable drop of the dark eyebrows softens, and instead of harsh swears all that comes out of Kili’s mouth is a soft sigh of pleasure. The soft, baggy fabric of Kili’s shorts makes it easy for Fili to wrap his hand around the very tip of Kili’s cock but he also agrees with Kili’s frustrated groan— _not enough_ , his mind tells him. Not nearly enough.

                The shorts are old enough that it only takes a casual flick of his thumb to open the button. “Fuck yes,” Kili hisses, hips rolling in encouragement. “Fili…god yes.”

                Fili’s lips trail across Kili’s collarbone as his fingers fumble with the zipper to Kili’s shorts. With a muffled curse, Kili’s hands join his, hips arching up as his shorts part. The red plaid of Kili’s boxers strains upward and Fili’s mouth actually waters as he glances down at the bulge.

                Handjobs. He’s done dozens of them before but now his hand’s shaking like he’s some kind of blushing virgin. His fingertips flutter over the edge of Kili’s cock as he nervously licks his lips, well aware that this is truly the point of no return. The fabric at the tip of Kili’s cock is already damp, which Fili notes as he hides his grin in Kili’s chest.

                “Fili…please,” Kili pants, fingers tugging at the ends of his hair. Fili stares  into the dazed chocolate eyes, half-lidded and hazy with lust. “I’m… _Fili…”_ Kili’s voice disintegrates as Fili’s hand wraps around his erection, the soft fabric of his boxers sliding against the hardness. His hand strokes once, twice before Kili’s shaking, legs jerking as his hands clutch painfully at Fili’s shoulders.

                “Fuck, fuck, _fuck, Fili,”_ Kili gasps, hips bucking up. Warm stickiness pulses suddenly against Fili’s hand, soaking the fabric. Small shudders shake through Kili’s lean body and Fili doesn’t stop stroking over Kili until his brother tries to wriggle out from underneath his hands. Fili pulls back, only to have Kili clutch at him, lips trailing messily over his lips and chin.

                “Fili, that was…you’re…” Kili kisses him again before he shifts so that he’s lying half on top of him, damp boxers pressing awkwardly into Fili’s jeans. “You haven’t…”

                “Fine, it’s fine,” Fili hisses, though the press of his cock against his jeans is borderline painful. He reaches down with the intention of adjusting himself but he finds that the rough press of the heel of his hand is too _good_ to ignore. Hissing, Fili churns his hips against his hand, against Kili, setting his teeth into the corded muscle of Kili’s shoulder. The rough friction is blindingly good, too much, setting his nerves ablaze. Kili’s hands are at his face, pulling their lips together, teeth nipping at his lobes as he whispers heatedly into his ears.

                “Come on Fili, come on, I wanna see, need to see you…”

                _“Fuck,”_ Fili chokes out, before he’s spilling in his pants like a teenager, face buried in the sweat-damp skin of Kili’s chest. His body trembles with sensation and Fili gasps as Kili’s touch elongates the aftershocks rumbling through his body. Eventually the thrilling hum ceases in his body and Fili’s breathing slows to a manageable rate as Kili strokes over his scalp and back. Kili’s long fingers card through his hair and Fili hums in contentment.

                “That was…” Kili begins and Fili flicks his eyes up to meet Kili’s bemused eyes. “Why haven’t we done that before?” Fili’s eyebrows creep up his forehead in amazement before they both burst in laughter that’s just short of hysterical. Kili’s question is ridiculous and just shy of scandalous, but it breaks the tension before it has a chance to form and for that Fili’s grateful. After their laughter subsides, they rearrange themselves more comfortably on Kili’s bed, limbs tangled together and hands clasped.

                That’s when Fili knows that he’s well and truly lost, with Kili’s head on his shoulder and the remnants of his seed drying in what will most certainly become an unholy mess. Because, nothing’s ever felt so _good_ as all of this, from the orgasm muffled with his teeth in Kili’s shoulder, to the dry huff of Kili’s breathing against his tacky, drying skin. And Fili knows that he’s not nearly strong enough to resist feeling this, all of it, again. 

 

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

 

**Day –1844**

Thorin’s car has become a regular addition to their driveway in the past weeks so Fili doesn’t think anything of seeing the sleek black Mercedes as he pulls in to the house. He shuts his car off and quickly stashes the bag of chips in his schoolbag as he gets out. His mother would throw a fit if she saw him bringing the snack in the house—mostly because she’d know exactly for whom the bag was intended.

                _“Fili, you need to stop bringing him presents! He’s been suspended from school for a week! This is punishment, not a vacation!”_

_“He’s bored, bringing him games won’t hurt anything!”_

Fili had lost that argument so he resorts to subterfuge. He feels bad about sneaking anything past his mother, especially now, after Dad…but Kili doesn’t need harshness now. Fili’s not entirely sure _what_ Kili needs—within the past two weeks his occasionally moody little brother has turned into a ticking time bomb—but he’s certain that being locked in his room with nothing to do all day does nothing to help Kili.

                The house is quiet when he enters, which is surprising. Lately, the low hum of voices has been a constant soundtrack, as his mother, Thorin, Balin and Dwalin go through papers and wills, deeds and insurance papers, all the while trying to wrench back tears. Fili peers through the kitchen and dining room and finds no one. He creeps down the hallway until he arrives at his father’s office.

                He’s heard his mother moving around the room in the middle of the night and crept downstairs to see the light from underneath the closed door. He doesn’t know what she does in there but when she emerges it doesn’t look as though anything has been touched. A pen still lies haphazardly on the desk, a stack of Post-It notes nearby. There are a few notes in his father’s neat handwriting, reminders of meetings that he’ll never attend. Fili’s only brought himself to enter once. It was too much, the sudden acknowledgement of loss hitting him in the solar plexus, making him bend at the waist and wheeze with pain.

                His mother sits inside, on the small loveseat, hands rhythmically clenching and relaxing. Thorin paces a straight line from either side of the room, his jaw set and eyes as hard as flint. Fili hesitantly knocks on the open door and two sets of eyes turn to him—His mother’s been crying again, Fili notes with a heavy heart.

                “I just got home and didn’t know where you were,” Fili stammers, suddenly certain that whatever’s happening here, he wants no part of it. “I’ll be in my room, I have work to do…” He almost makes it to the stairs when Thorin’s voice calls him back.  

                “Fili, we need to talk to you.”

                Fili’s heart beats hard against his sternum, worry filling his mouth with a stale taste. He stands in the doorway, hoping that he can make a quick escape. It’s not to be. Thorin beckons him in the room and walks over to close the door behind him. Fili sits beside his mother, instinctively seeking comfort from her.

                “It’s your brother,” his mother gently begins. Fili swallows hard as thousands of scenarios run through his head, none of them pleasant.

                “What…what about him?”

                “He was arrested this afternoon.”

                It takes Fili a moment to comprehend Thorin’s stark words, mind slowly chewing and digesting, until it finally reaches the grit. “Wha…what are you talking about?” Fili laughs, a small hiss through his teeth, at the absurdity of Thorin’s statement. “He was here all day…”

                “He went into your room and climbed out your window.” Thorin’s arms cross over his chest. He glowers at Fili as though Kili’s ingenuity is somehow his fault but Fili cannot be bothered to feel affronted. For now his mind is still trying to digest those impossible words. _Arrested…Kili…_

“What…what did he do?” Fili’s mouth is dry, worry creating deserts on his tongue and lips.

                “He got caught shoplifting.” His mother takes over the story once more. When she relaxes her hand Fili can see the crescent marks she’s dug into the skin of her palm. “The police, they um…” She glances towards the stairs, unerringly in the direction of Kili’s room.

                “He had about a hundred dollars worth of clothes on him and about two hundred in electronics.” Thorin’s eyes are flashing fury as his uncle takes to pacing the room once more, turning viciously on his heel as he stalks back towards the door. “God knows how he made it out of the first store without getting caught. It was only because he dropped a pair of headphones that he was caught at all!”

                “What…where is he?” Fili asks, tongue abnormally large in his mouth. He tries to think back on the shopping trips that he and Kili were forced to undergo with their parents—Kili had hated them, had whined at being forced to try on various outfits. Now Kili’s no longer whining but instead spiriting those clothes away.

                “He’s currently locked in his room,” Thorin practically spits. “Where he’ll stay until we figure out what to do with him.”

                “You mean until _I_ figure out what to do with him,” his mother counters, her temper sparking for the first time. “He’s my son Thorin.”

                “Do you have any idea how many favors I had to call in, just to get them to release him? I’ve almost managed to get the owners to drop the charges but it won’t be easy.” For the first time some of the anger fades from the set of Thorin’s jaw and his shoulders slump in surrender. “It’s not my place Dis, I know that. But you must see that something needs to be done…”

                “I don’t know what else to do with him!” Fili awkwardly shifts his weight in the doorway as his mother slams her fist on her knee. He hates seeing her like this, the woman that he’s come to rely on for all of his life suddenly powerless, against no foe bigger than scrawny, thirteen year old Kili.

                “First it was the back-talking to his teachers, then it was the fight…I thought that getting suspended would be enough, I really did. He’s not…Ever since his father—“ His mother takes in a deep breath as Thorin lays his hand on her shoulder. “I can’t be here to watch him every second of the day, and neither can you. I just…I don’t know what else to do with him.”

                “How did his meeting with the therapist go?” Thorin asks. Neither one of them look at Fili. He thinks he’s been forgotten, which from his viewpoint, is all for the good. He’d forgotten that his mother had scheduled a meeting with the child’s psychologist, just after Kili had received his suspension.

                His mother laughs mirthlessly. “He called her a bitch and said that he wasn’t going to talk to her. And he didn’t.” Fili winces. As obnoxious as Kili could be, he would much rather have the goofy, lolloping puppy of a younger brother than this snarling beast.

                “Even if the owners don’t press charges they want him to do one hundred hours of community service as a good faith gesture,” Thorin mentions. His large hands engulf his mothers as he stands in front of her. She nods, her eyes on the floor.

                “Is that all they’re going to do to him?” Thorin sits beside his mother, arm around her shoulders as he pulls her in close to his side. His eyes flick back towards the door and Fili finally sees how holding his family together has taken a toll on his uncle. Thorin’s eyes look ancient and there are fine lines radiating out from the corners of his eyes that weren’t present two months ago.

                “I think that I’ll manage to talk them out of taking any action that’ll be permanently on his record. That, and I’m sure a generous sponsorship of Erebor to some of their advertising campaigns.” Thorin’s voice is gentle and Fili’s uncomfortably reminded of the calm before a storm. “But…if he does anything again…I’m not going to be able to get him out of every scrape Dis.”

                “I know, I _know!”_ Once more his mother’s fist strikes her knee. “I’m trying my best here Thorin, you know I am! I just don’t know…how much more can I do?”

                “Have you thought…” Thorin’s eyes dart around the room as though he’s looking for inspiration. Finding none, he squares his shoulders and looks his mother directly in the eye. “Have you thought that perhaps sending him away for school would be better for him? Get him out of the town, get him away from any bad memories?”

                A cold chill spreads down Fili’s back and he’s at least gratified to see the same horror he feels reflected in his mother’s eyes. “You think that banishing him is what he needs?” She sounds scandalized and jerks away from Thorin.

                “It wouldn’t be banishing, it would be good for him! Obviously he feels the need to act out against something, so get him away from whatever’s causing it!”

                “You don’t think that it’s because he just lost his father do you?” Never has Fili heard his mother’s voice edged so sharply, the finely honed blade slicing through the air. “And how exactly is sending him away supposed to help with that?”

                “If he does anything else, it won’t be our decision!” Thorin finally raises his voice, the thin hold he has on his temper breaking. Fili automatically recoils from the sight and sound, even as the words launch a fresh wave of nausea in him. With effort, Thorin manages to calm himself before he turns back to them.

                “That was the deal that I had to make in order to make sure that Kili wouldn’t be charged with anything,” Thorin explains in an inflectionless voice. “If he got into any more trouble he would be sent to a juvenile facility.”

                Fili can’t listen to anymore. Neither his mother or Thorin notice his departure as he runs up the stairs, Thorin’s last words echoing in his mind: _send him to a juvenile facility…_ Dad was already taken from him, lost in one rainy afternoon on a stupid stretch of road that he’d traveled a thousand times before. Does he really have to lose Kili as well? Could the universe be that cruel?

                Before he’s fully aware of what he’s doing, his fingers have curled around Kili’s doorknob. They slide over cool metal but the knob doesn’t twist in his hands. Fili glances down in confusion only to see that the knob, worn smooth by years of use, has been replaced by a large, shiny brass knob—with a lock on the outside. Fili swallows hard. It’s this, more than any words of Thorin’s which finally cement in his mind what Kili’s done.

                He swipes his thumb over the lock and then turns the knob. He listens as the door creaks open, certain that he’ll hear the wrathful voice of his uncle. After a few moments he allows himself to breath, though he doesn’t fully relax until he’s closed Kili’s door behind him.

                Once inside the room Fili blinks as he tries to force his eyes to adjust to the unnatural dark of the room. Kili always leaves his curtains open and shades up, he loves the sunlight, drinks it in like other people drink water. It only sends Fili’s equilibrium spiraling that much further out of control, the familiar world slowly slipping away.

                When his eyes finally orient themselves, he sees that Kili’s bed has been stripped, pillows thrown on the floor and sheets torn off the mattress. Fili searches for any hint of his brother and then he spies the comforter in the corner, as well as the small, shifting lump underneath it. He crouches and pulls the blanket down before Kili has a chance to tighten his surprisingly strong fingers on the fabric.

                It’s obvious that his brother’s been crying. Kili’s nose is red and swollen, as are his eyes, and his cheeks are a mottled pink. The thin shoulders still shake with barely suppressed emotion and the second that Kili’s eyes lock on his, his brother starts to scrub away at his eyes, like he can erase all evidence of his tears.

                “What do you want?” Kili demands, his voice childishly breaking halfway through his sentence. “You want to yell at me too?”

                “No,” Fili replies carefully, settling himself down close to Kili. He unobtrusively ensures that he’s between the now unlocked door and Kili—his brother has always been rash and he shudders to think at what would happen if Kili tried to make a break for freedom with Thorin downstairs. “I just wanted to talk to you and make sure you were all right.”

                “I’m fine,” Kili stubbornly insists as he draws his knees close to his chest. Fili would argue with his brother’s assessment of ‘fine’ but he decides to leave that battle for another day. “You can go tell Mom and Thorin that.”

                Fili looks over his brother and resists the impulse to grab his bony shoulders and shake him. A dark bruise still mars Kili’s right eye, souvenir of the fight which landed his brother into a week-long suspension from middle-school. Kili hasn’t even told him what started the fight.

                “Kili,” he sighs and Kili must have heard something in his tone because he abruptly jerks away.

                “You can go away,” he mumbles, casting his gaze to look at anywhere but Fili. “You just want to yell.”

                “I’m not going to yell at you,” Fili insists, though the option’s sounding more appealing by the minute. “I just… _why?_ ” The question, which he wanted to approach with more finesse, awkwardly blurts from his lips. “Why? What were you thinking?”

                “Don’t know.” Kili still refuses to look at him and this angers Fili more than anything. He’s always been able to get Kili to talk to him, his little brother trusting him with a fervor that Fili’s always done his best to deserve.

                “That’s not good enough!” Kili startles at his low hiss, Fili’s anger escaping into his voice. “Do you understand how much trouble you’re in? You understand what Uncle Thorin had to do to get you out of it—“

                “Shut up!” Kili pushes at him, his smaller hands landing ineffectual blows on Fili’s chest. Fili easily absorbs them, feeling that desperation instead of anger fuels Kili’s attack. “I already know, Thorin already told me that, he already screamed at me—“

                “Did he tell you _everything?”_ Fili ruthlessly pushes. Kili looks at him, brown eyes wide and already glimmering with unshed tears. “Did he tell you that if you get into any more trouble they’ll—“ Fili chokes on the last part of his sentence as he imagines Kili packed away in a car, of his brother going away to spend time with strangers, now of all times, when they need to be a family more than ever— “They’ll send you away Kili.”

                From the way Kili gasps and freezes Fili can tell that this is the first anyone’s spoken of it. “What…what do you mean?” Kili asks, though Fili thinks that his little brother understands the implications of what he’s saying.

                “It’s the deal that Thorin’s going to have to make to get the charges dropped. If you get into trouble again then they’ll send you away to a juvenile facility.” Fili pauses and then continues, figuring that Kili deserves to hear all of the ugly truth, needs to hear what his actions have started. “Thorin’s already thinking about sending you away to boarding school.”

                “No!” Kili denies, furiously shaking his head. “Mom wouldn’t—“

                “Mom doesn’t know what to do!” It’s a strange mixture of anger, pity and sadness which roils in his chest. For so long Kili’s been coddled and shielded from the harsh truths of life, protected from the consequences of his actions. It’s now time for Kili to grow up and Fili wishes that it wasn’t him that had to initiate Kili into the convoluted maze of adulthood. He wishes that it was someone, anyone else, but of course it would be him. Even if their father were still there, it would still be Fili, in the end.

                “Mom’s still trying to deal with everything from Dad and she can’t deal with…she doesn’t know what to do with you. Do you realize how much you’re hurting her?” A dirty tactic but one that Fili knows will be effective. Kili’s body starts to tremble and Fili almost stops but he tells himself that Kili _needs_ this. It would happen anyway and it’s better coming from him rather than Thorin.

                “Mom’s running out of options. Kili…” Fili reaches out and tugs on a stray end of Kili’s hair. However infuriating Kili is, there’s something about him which still makes Fili want to hold him close and promise that everything’s going to be all right. “Don’t you understand how much this is hurting all of us? How much it hurts me?” Dirty, foul, he’s a despicable, manipulative bastard, but if this helps keep Kili out of trouble, even just a little, then it would be worthwhile.

                “I didn’t…It was just some stuff! I didn’t…I didn’t want to hurt anyone!” Kili finally looks at him, eyes wide and frantic.

                “I know, I know,” Fili soothes, his fingers moving over Kili’s hair. Kili surges forward and Fili’s arms open as Kili pours into his embrace. Warm weight settles against his chest and Kili’s arms wrap tightly around his torso.

                “I don’t want to go away, don’t let them send me away, I don’t want to, I’m sorry—“ Kili continues babbling into Fili’s chest until his words become unintelligible.

                “I won’t,” Fili promises, nose pressing into the top of Kili’s head. “We’re family Kee, we need to stick together.”

                Kili nods against his chest, sniffling periodically until his body finally relaxes. Fili shifts their bodies around so that he’s leaning against the door. He stretches out sore legs, wincing as blood starts to flow through his cramped limbs. In the artificial darkness of Kili’s room Fili can’t tell how much time passes but it’s most likely several hours. There’s no noise from downstairs but Fili still doesn’t want to risk venturing into the tense atmosphere.

                He sighs, dropping his chin onto Kili’s head. Kili grouches at him, shifting his position to find a more comfortable position against his chest. Within moments Kili’s resumed his light drowsing, the sound of his even breaths relaxing to his still alert mind. Time continues to tick by and Fili idly drums his fingers against Kili’s back as his brother’s words play through his mind.

                He doesn’t doubt the truth behind the sobbed apologies, just like he doesn’t doubt that Kili means every one of his promises. His brother isn’t a deliberate liar. He just makes so _many_ promises, to the point that Fili isn’t surprised when he breaks one because Kili probably forgot that he made it in the first place. Kili won’t _intend_ to get in trouble, won’t intentionally do anything that he thinks will hurt the people around him. But Kili also won’t remember this, Thorin’s yells, his mother’s tears, Fili’s anger, won’t remember huddling in a tiny ball in the corner of his room, before he slides a game into his pocket, won’t recall that every action has a price tag attached to it.

                Time slips away and Fili’s no closer to an answer when the tentative knock sounds on the door. A sliver of light appears as his mother cautiously peers in. “Dinner’s ready,” she murmurs, once her eyes light on them. Kili snuffles as he sits up and Fili feels oddly bereft when his brother peels himself off of him. Steps shuffle down the hallway and the bathroom door shuts.

                “He feels bad,” Fili offers, shrugging his shoulders.

                “Of course he does,” Dis returns as she leans over to pick up Kili’s pillows. “You know as well as I do that he didn’t even want anything that he took—he probably just took them to see if he could.”

                “Is Thorin downstairs still?” Fili feels like he has to ask because he’s not sure of how a confrontation between his uncle and Kili’s going to end.

                “No, he went home an hour or so ago.” The set of his mother’s jaw warns Fili that further mention of his uncle will not go over well so he tries in vain to find a change of subject. Dis rescues him from his predicament, turning to him with a fond smile as she finishes the hospital corner of Kili’s sheets. “You’ll have to come home every weekend, just to make sure that your brother’s doing all right,” she teases, ruffling his hair before taking the comforter from him. “Otherwise, without you around, I’m not sure what he’ll get into.”

                Fili swallows hard as he stands, his mother’s words striking an uncomfortable chord in him. A disproving click of his mother’s tongue interrupts his thoughts and he looks over to see her glaring at him, arms folded.

                “Stop it,” she orders, the fondness in her eyes belying the snap in her voice. “I know that look. No one your age should feel that responsible.”

                “Who’s going to look after Kili when I go?” Fili asks, ignoring his mother’s words.

                Dis rolls her eyes as she lightly bats his shoulder. “We’ll manage without you, little worrywart. Or do you really think that Thorin, Dwalin, and myself aren’t up to the job?”

                “Well, maybe not Thorin,” Fili mutters, catching his mother’s eye as a devilish smirk spreads over his face. Mirth lights in her eyes and laughter makes his mother’s shoulders shake with genuine amusement. Fili  grins back, drinking in the sight of his mother’s happiness. He’s almost forgotten how she looks when she’s in high spirits.

                He’s so caught in the moment that he misses Kili’s return. Dis sees him, her laughter subsiding almost immediately and Fili turns to see his brother lurking in the doorway. Kili’s face is guarded, guilt lurking in his dark eyes. Dis smiles, sad and loving, as her arms open. Kili moves so swiftly that Fili almost misses his brother crossing the room as he flings himself into his mother’s embrace.

                “I’m sorry,” Kili whimpers, his words muffled from his face pressed into Dis’ shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

                “I know,” his mother soothes as her hands rub over Kili’s back. “I know love.”

                Fili watches for a moment before he presses himself against Kili’s back, sandwiching his little brother between his mother and himself. _We’re family, we have to stick together…_

                He knows then, what he has to do.

 

 

                At school the next morning, before first period, Fili ducks into a bathroom. A quick glance assures him that it’s deserted and he pulls his phone out of his pocket, before dialing the number that he programmed in that morning.

                “Rivendell University, Admissions Office, this is Lindir speaking, how can I help you?”

                Fili swallows, trying to force saliva down his suddenly dry throat. He didn’t sleep last night, stayed awake as he wrestled, swore, and cried. He tried to find another way, any other action which felt _right,_ but none of them seemed to fit. He takes a deep breath, rubbing his temples before he starts to speak, voice cracking before he manages to steady it.

                “Um, yes.” Fili pauses and tries to calm his breathing while he forces down the bile in his throat. “My name is Fili Durin and I need to cancel my enrollment for Fall Semester.”

               

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-     


	7. There's No One to Keep Me Warm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another birthday and an uncomfortable discussion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um...I don't have any really clever notes? Except for another apology that it took so long? 
> 
> Slow writer is slow.   
> Very slow.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-     

 

 

                 

**Day 534**

The closer it gets to his birthday, the less Fili sleeps. He wakes at odd times, when darkness still engulfs him and the luminescent numbers on his alarm clock read only four fifteen. He’ll remain awake for the rest of the night, dropping off into a fitful sleep only to wake up a half hour later, body aching and mind racing.

                His birthday is the first real milestone that he’ll face alone and Fili’s unsure what he fears the most. To be forgotten by Kili, to be ignored on this day, which Kili’s always, always tried to make perfect—Fili’s chest aches. But to have to listen to a phone call from Kili, receive an email, pretend like everything’s fine—how is he supposed to survive when he knows that _everything’s_ changed between them?

                The morning of his birthday dawns, bright sunlight darting through the sliver in his curtains to lance his eyelids. Fili groans as he rolls over, pulling the comforter over his face. He’s allowed one hazy moment of confusion before the realization hits, heavy and sickening in his stomach.  

                His hand automatically reaches for his phone, closes around it, before he releases it. He forces himself to shower and brush his teeth, ignoring the vibrations which sound from his bedside table. His stomach nervously churns as he imagines what will be waiting for him on his phone. By the time that Fili unlocks the screen he still hasn’t decided on what he wants.

 He has several midnight texts from friends, all of them competing to be first to wish him a Happy Birthday. There’s a perfectly composed, short text from Thorin wishing him a good day, a teasing text from Ori reminding him that he’s one year closer to be ancient, and, as he stares at the screen, his mother’s wishes arrive. Fili answers all of them, thanks his friends for caring, and eats breakfast while he tries to ignore the disappointment sinking deep in his gut.

There’s nothing from Kili.

                He finds Bilbo at lunch, inordinately grateful for his friend’s quiet demeanor. The hurt, which he tries to convince himself he has no right to feel, still lurks, and he’s not sure whether he could properly handle any effusions of glee.

                “Any plans?” Bilbo asks as he idly stirs the teabag around his cup.

                Fili shrugs, taking an enormous bite of his sandwich. He tries not to grin as Bilbo delicately wrinkles his nose in distaste. His mother and Thorin ensured that he and Kili had impeccable table manners but really, sometimes Bilbo is just delightfully prissy. “Just stay in probably, work on some papers, get caught up on reading?”

                Bilbo stops everything as his eyebrows slowly creep upward. “I never thought that I would be the one saying this, but you need to go out and have fun. It’s your birthday, it only comes once a year.” He looks so serious while chastising him that Fili can’t quite bring himself to give the flippant response he was planning.

                “It doesn’t…Birthdays were never really a big deal in my house,” Fili lies, the words awkward and stilted on his tongue. Birthdays were huge occasions, times for the whole family to gather together and celebrate, his house full to bursting with second cousins and friends of the family, and someone who might have been related to him or had maybe just wandered in to see what the commotion was about. He and Kili had always loved the chaos which surrounded their birthdays, always reveled in the parties which were thrown for them.

                Bilbo’s eyebrows dive downwards. “Now that’s just not right,” he scolds and Fili has to duck his head to hide a smile. He knows that to Bilbo, birthdays are practically a sacred affair and that Bilbo, who has nearly as much extended family as he does, is always jotting off a card to this nephew or that aunt. “Birthdays are the one day out of the year which belongs just to you. You’re at least coming over and sharing a bottle with me—I’ve been dying to try this new merlot.”

                “We’ll see,” Fili murmurs, unable to squash any of Bilbo’s indignant rage on his behalf. If he’s telling the truth it feels good to have someone get worked up over him, _because_ of him. Sometimes he thinks that having people upset either for him or because of him, is the only way that he can feel love.

                “No, none of that ‘we’ll see’ nonsense, you’re coming over tonight. I’ll see you around nine.” Bilbo might be even shorter than he is and usually possess the personality of a friendly grocer, but occasionally he gets the tone which will brook no disagreement. This is one of those times, Fili decides, as he meekly nods and sips his water.

                Later, as he lights a cigarette after his last class, he can grudgingly admit that it feels better having plans, something to at least look forward to on a day which was supposed to be perfect. Fili takes a deep drag, eyes flicking up towards the hazy blue sky as he finally lets himself think about what this day was supposed to be like.

                Kili was supposed to be here.

                Kili had been so excited when they’d looked over the academic calendars and discovered that Laketown’s Spring Break had occurred with his birthday. “It’s like they planned it that way!” Kili had mused, eyes sparkling with delight. Fili had laughed, caught up in Kili’s infectious enthusiasm, buoyed up with the security that constant contact for three solid months had given them both. They’d started planning their Spring Break then, sprawled out over Fili’s bed, his arm casually slung over Kili’s bare back, Kili’s foot idly rubbing against his calf.

                Even as their fights had become the norm rather than the exception, and Fili had hung up the phone, nauseous and heartsick, he’d still clung to the idea of their Spring Break. _Only two months…only a month…several weeks…_ He’d managed to convince himself that everything would be fine once he saw Kili in front of him, felt his brother’s warm flesh, kissed those lips, fallen asleep with the dark hair against his cheek. In the end neither one of them had survived to the finish line.

                Fili rolls his eyes as he throws his cigarette down on the sidewalk, angrily stubbing it out with a harsh motion. He needs to stop thinking about all the might-have-beens, the should-have-beens. He yanks his bag onto his shoulders with more force than is strictly necessary, and stomps towards his apartment.

                The ten minute walk serves to calm his frayed nerves, the pounding of feet against the pavement oddly soothing. He’s even managed to start looking forward to wine at Bilbo’s again when he spies the box sitting on the doorstep of his townhouse apartment. Fili stops dead, eyeing the box as though it contains potentially lethal devices.

                Thorin’s gift came in the mail yesterday, a check made out to him with what Fili considered an obscene amount of money. His mother’s gift had come a week early, a victim of her insistence that everything be sent early in case of troubles at the post office. He’d enjoyed the cookies and candies held within, as well as the coffee mug emblazoned with Rivendell’s crest and a few books. But this…The cardboard box looks so innocuous sitting in front of his door but Fili knows that it has the power to disrupt his whole week.

                His worst fears are confirmed when he looks at the address label and Kili’s spiky scrawl greets him. Fili’s heart pounds in his chest as he stares at the seemingly innocent square, now transformed into a box to rival Pandora’s. For a wild moment, he considers kicking it away from him, into the street and letting the cars destroy the contents but he can’t bring himself to do that. Not when, despite his best efforts, his own curiosity demands that he look inside, consequences be damned.

                After a few more moments of deliberation, Fili sets his fingers underneath the box and lifts. It’s heavier than he was expecting and he doesn’t know what that means. He juggles the box on his hip while he fumbles with his keys, shoving the door open with a hard push from his foot. Once inside, he throws his bag down and gently places the box on his kitchen table, carefully studying it.

                He should just open it and get the torture over with. Sitting here, staring at the familiar way that Kili writes his name, isn’t helping anything. Fili’s getting more agitated by the minute, fists clenching and releasing as he continues to stare.

                Finally, he loses his patience and reaches for the box. His keys easily cut into the clear packing tape and split it cleanly down the middle. The flaps of the box part and Fili flicks them open with baited breath. It strikes him as somewhat ridiculous that he’s almost expecting an explosion. None comes and with shaking hands Fili reaches inside the box.

                He comes back with a handful of vintage records, old rock and roll band logos displayed in psychedelic lettering across the cases. His heart twists as he recalls the conversation he had with Kili when they’d found their father’s old turntable in the attic, covered in dust but perfectly useable.

                _“I’d really just want to get some old records to put in here, some of Dad’s favorite stuff, you know?”_

Fili swallows hard, fighting down the tears which rise as he flicks through the slightly battered records, corners worn smooth by time. Grateful Dead, The Doors, Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, Led Zepplin, Pink Floyd…Kili’s taste might not be wide but it is impeccable.

                There’s more. Fili pulls out a pair of fingerless mechanic’s gloves, some that he had admired in the auto shop the last time he’d visited with Kili. His old pair had been on their last gasping breaths and Fili had stroked over the grippers in the palm. He’d felt Kili come up behind him, breath heavy on the back of his neck.

                “You’d look good in those,” Kili commented, and Fili’s mouth quirked upwards in the stupid little grin he got whenever Kili complimented him. “Mm, and you’d have oil and sweat on you…”

                “Maybe some other time,” Fili had told him firmly, turning away from the gloves to focus on the reason why he’d come to the shop in the first place, instead of the sudden pressure on the inside of his jeans. Now those same gloves stare at him, blatant reminder of happy times long vanished.

                What’s Kili trying to prove, sending these to him now? What message should he read in this gift—or is this a message at all? Is this simply Kili sending him something which his brother has no use for? Fili’s head starts to hurt as he gently places the gloves back into the box. His fingers brush against a thin piece of paper and he absently pulls it out, expecting to see a packing slip. It’s not. With a growing sense of trepidation Fili smoothes the creases out and finally reads the two words, printed out in Kili’s distinctive handwriting.

                _Happy Birthday._

                Fili stares at the note, waiting for more words to appear, for Kili to call him and explain what he means, for the sky to fall down on him because he can’t handle this, Kili dropping back into his life when he finally thinks that he’s gotten rid of him. He wants Kili gone, evaporated, vanished from his memory. He wants Kili beside him as he tests out these new records, backs on the floor, staring at the ceiling as they reminisce. Maybe they would have held hands. Maybe they would have gone upstairs and made love to the slow, rolling beat of Pink Floyd, fucked to the frenetic guitar riffs of the Doors.

                “Fuck,” Fili hisses, as he throws everything back into the box, slapping the cardboard flaps shut. They slap together with an empty, unsatisfying whoosh, which irritates Fili even further. He wants explosions, he wants the world to reflect what he feels—he was doing so _well,_ he was _fine,_ and then Kili comes along and fucks everything up, just like he always did.

                He wants Kili.

                Before he knows what he’s doing, his thumb punches at the screen of his phone. He doesn’t pay attention to the furious swipes of his thumb across the smooth plastic and it’s only when the drone of a dialtone penetrates through the haze in his mind that he puts the phone to his ear.

                The phone rings twice before there’s the soft click of his call being answered. A gentle laugh greets him. “I was expecting at least a few hours to pass before you tried to cancel.”

                It takes a moment before Fili places the familiar voice, unexpected and yet a surprise. For a brief, horrifying, tantalizing second he’d expected to hear Kili’s light tenor on the other end, maybe happy, maybe angry but _Kili…_ Instead, it’s Bilibo’s refined chuckle, turning into a long silence before he asks, “Fili? Are you all right?”

                One hard swallow and Fili answers, gulping oxygen down in greedy inhalations as he tries to steady the pounding beat of his heart. “No, no I’m not calling to cancel.” He licks his lips and pauses as he gathers his words, trying to make his voice steady. _Fuck,_ but he wants Kili.

                “I actually um…You said nine but…how’s now? Does now work?”

                “It’s your birthday,” Bilbo replies, slightly confused undertone to his words but his ineffable politeness preventing him from questioning Fili’s sudden eagerness. “You should get whatever you want on your birthday.”

 

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

 

**Day 23**

 

                If he’s perfectly honest with himself, he’s surprised that it took Kili this long to ask the question. Kili’s always been too curious for his own good, always had the streak of the narcissist within him, unable to walk away when there’s a hint that he might miss praise. It happens one night when he and Kili are engaging in a lazy makeout session, tongues slowly curling around each other and savoring the texture of the other’s mouth.

                Fili enjoys this slow pace, feels more in control of everything when it comes beat by beat instead of rushing in all at once like a tidal wave. He likes Kili’s smile when he nibbles his lower lip, loves the way that Kili’s fingers pluck his shirt up and away from his stomach so that he can idly scratch his lower belly, fingertips shifting the hair aside to rub against skin. Kili’s leg is thrown over both of his as his brother lies at his side, each of their hands tangled in the other’s hair, in the other’s shirt. Fili’s cock is stirring, interested in the contact but content to stay primarily dormant for the moment. Despite how amazing it feels to gain his climax rutting against Kili, supple and pliant underneath him, Fili has to admit that for the moment, he’s more comfortable with this, the leisurely push of hips and hands.

                Their bodies are snarled together until Fili’s not sure where he ends and Kili begins, but he doesn’t quite mind that much—the soft brush of a pinky against the corner of his mouth feels good, no matter who the digit belongs to. He is hyper-aware of each creak and groan that the house makes, ears always pricked for the sound of his mother’s step outside his door or the soft rasp of the doorknob opening. That sort of attention takes something away from the pleasure of his lips pressed to Kili’s tongue sliding over his brother’s teeth to map out the terrain of his mouth. It doesn’t take away all of the pleasure and Fili’s more than content to bask in what he has.

                Of course, Kili has to open his mouth and ruin it.

                “So when did you know?” Kili mumbles, the words barely intelligible as his tongue sloppily slides over Fili’s lips.

                “Know what?” Fili asks, small sparks of alarm lighting deep within his brain, but not surfacing.

                “When did you know that you…that you wanted… _this_.” With a large sweep of his arm Kili gestures at their bodies, intimately entwined on Fili’s bed. 

                A small jolt of guilt and worry shoots through Fili. He hadn’t been expecting this question, hadn’t worked up time to give a decent answer that was close enough to the truth but would still please Kili. The whole truth is of course, out of the question. It sounds terrible even to his ears. _I didn’t even know that I wanted you until we were both wasted and then I kissed you and since then I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you—_ It would sound terrible even if Kili weren’t his brother. The fact that he is makes the whole situation a thousand times worse. For Fili thinks that if he is to do something as forbidden, as indecent, as want to bed his own brother he should have been struggling with this desire for months, perhaps even years, though that would cross some line, even for him. The point, Fili ruminates, as he takes too long to answer Kili’s question, is that his desire is newfound and powerful, the roaring forest fire which devours everything in its path. And he doubts that Kili will like that answer.

                “Dunno,” Fili finally says, long after the time to answer has come and gone. Kili’s eyebrows wrinkle but he hasn’t received a bratty huff of impatience yet, so he might still have a chance to salvage this situation. He feels like he’s tiptoeing around a room of bombs—each one primed to go off if he treads too heavily or in the wrong spot.

                “I guess…I guess I always did?” he finally tries, surprised when the words settle him in only the way that truth does. Not that it makes him feel better—it just means that there was always something wrong with him, something broken inside him which made him want to fuck his little brother.

                Some of the tension eases out of Kili’s body, the lines around his eyes relaxing as they become shallow. Fili would breathe a sigh of relief but he doesn’t want to alert Kili that he thought anything was wrong in the first place.

                If he were intelligent, he would let the subject die. But even though he’s supposedly more level-headed and responsible than his younger brother, Fili still has a streak of recklessness in him which means that he’ll stir up trouble just to watch. It’s this side now, stirred up and irritated at Kili for asking a question that would so abruptly put him on the spot, that turns to Kili and asks, with a little hint of a knife-edge in his smile, “Your turn then. When did it happen for you?”

                If he was hoping to unsettle Kili with his question it doesn’t happen, though, Fili consoles himself, he’s probably had more time to prepare than he did. Kili easily shrugs as his dark eyes flick up to the ceiling fan, watching it rotate for a moment as he thinks. “I guess…maybe around sixteen? But seventeen was when I _knew,_ ” Kili says, and it’s like a punch in the gut to Fili. He’d hoped for maybe just a couple of months…Hell, he’d hoped that Kili would parrot his unspoken answer back to him, tell him that it was just because they shared a hell of a good drunken kiss. Then Fili might be able to relax, might be able to lie to himself and say that it’s nothing but hormones causing this misplaced lust. That everything will settle in the end and they’ll have several awkward years but eventually they’ll be able to look each other in the eye, share a laugh and move on. But years….

                “Shit,” Fili breathes, as he pulls away from Kili and flops flat on his back. “Shit Kili.”

                Kili leans over him, intruding into his personal space, face too close, breath smothering him. Fili tries to pull back but he’s stuck against the pillows and there’s no place left to run. Besides, even if he could get away from Kili, he still wouldn’t be able to run from the knowledge that since he was sixteen, his baby brother’s had a crush on him.

                “The fuck is wrong with you?” Kili demands, throwing fuel onto the fire of Fili’s agony. “You think you’d be happy.”

                “Sure, I’m happy that my baby brother’s had a crush on me for years,” Fili laughs, barely managing to dampen the high, hysterical note in his voice. He can’t afford to wake their mother, can’t even think about what would happen if she opened the door at this moment. He might just break down and confess everything—the harsh kisses with too much teeth, the hurried jacking off in the small hours of the morning, when pleasure finally outweighed guilt, and this, this…the fact that somewhere, something Fili did made his little brother want him.

                “Did I lead you on?” Fili asks, cracking his eyes open a centimeter to look at Kili’s darkening face. “Did I ever…Did I ever make you think that I wouldn’t love you unless you…What the fuck did I do to you?”

                From the look on Kili’s face he can tell that his little brother doesn’t understand. Considering that only five minutes ago, Fili had been contemplating whether or not he should sneak a hand up the back of Kili’s shirt to graze over the bumps in his spine, his confusion is understandable, if no less frustrating.

                Meanwhile, the articles from the Internet pound away at the inside of Fili’s skull, screaming at them with their accusations, telling him that he must have done something, must have said something, to influence Kili. He was twenty-one, an adult and Kili was sixteen, without any facial hair…Kili was a skinny teenager, nothing but bones underneath olive skin until halfway through his senior year in high school, where suddenly sinewy muscles appeared in his shoulders and back, placed there as though by magic. Now Fili can feel the strength in those same muscles as Kili grips his biceps, forcing Fili’s attention back to him.

                “The fuck are you rambling on about?” Kili demands and Fili’s heart sinks. Of course, of course Kili wouldn’t see anything wrong with it, his little brother’s always been achingly naïve underneath all of his prickliness. Kili would never suspect that anything Fili did had ulterior motives—hell, even he hadn’t suspected until just now. Fili wonders what small gesture or comment set them down on the path which will lead in their eventual ruin.

                Kili’s laugh is unexpected and it snaps Fili’s full attention back to his brother. “Jesus, you really think that you must have…I don’t know, diddled me in the shower or something, don’t you? Fuck Fili…Do you know how impossible it was to _not_ have a crush on you?”

                Fili’s mouth opens and closes for a moment but he can’t seem to find words, which is fine, as Kili seems to have more than enough for the both of them.

                “Did you know that most of my friends had crushes on you?” Kili continues. “Why do you think I always had so many of them over here?” Fili helplessly shrugs—he had wondered at the amount of Kili’s tiny friends which always seemed to be underfoot when he was just trying to escape into the quiet solitude of his room, but he never really gave them more than a glancing thought. He’d just assumed that Kili was popular. It makes him slightly uncomfortable now to think that behind closed doors there was of sixteen year olds lusting after him…including his own brother.

                “It was irritating sometimes, listening to all the girls in my grade go on about how good looking you were…with your _hair_ …and your _car_ …and your _smile…_ ”Though Kili’s words are mocking a genuine thread of affection runs through his speech. “I didn’t really understand it at first you know? I mean…you were a snob and didn’t know how to have any fun, so I really didn’t see where the attraction was.

                “But then Mom dragged me to one of your tournaments and I remember watching you just annihilate your opponent. You knew it too, knew that you placed with that match…” Kili grins, delighted and secretive and his eyes shine at Fili, letting him in on the joke, even though Fili just wishes he was a million miles away. He could get up, lock himself in the bathroom, flee into the escape which his car offers, yet he’s frozen in place with Kili’s body on top of him because you always, _always_ look at a car crash.

                “You were just…you had the biggest smile on your face and your hair was tied back but some of it was falling around your face…you were all sweaty and your gi top was hanging open just a little…” Kili’s voice is dreamy and even though he’s horrified at the story Fili can’t help but feel the stirrings of pleasure which a compliment gives him. “You just…you looked fucking gorgeous, like some goddamned movie star and I was just like, _So that’s what everyone sees in him._ ”

                “Lots of people think that they siblings are good looking,” Fili tries, mouth dry and words brittle on his tongue. “They don’t…they don’t…”

                “They don’t what?” Kili asks, his tone aggressive. “They don’t do this?” And he leans down to kiss Fili, the pressure of his mouth demanding more, more—Fili opens his mouth, helpless to resist and Kili sweeps in with all the delicacy of a marauding army. Kili takes, takes, takes, until Fili’s gasping underneath him, for more, for him to stop, maybe just to catch his breath. And then Kili yanks away and it feels like ripping off a scab—it hurts, but there’s delight in the pain. And then Kili grins at him and there’s no way that his baby brother should look that composed, not when Fili’s busily trying to reinflate his lungs.

                “Fuck them,” Kili enunciates, like Fili’s too stupid to understand him if he speaks normally. “What do they know?”

                Kili never listens, Fili laments as his brother’s teeth bite down on the tender flesh of his neck. He’ll have a bruise there, he knows he will—his hips lift up and press against Kili’s leg and his brother bites down harder. Fili has every intention of telling Kili to get the fuck off of him when he opens his mouth but all that comes out is a strangled moan, which sounds nothing like disapproval. Kili’s hands are fumbling and rough when they shove at the waistband of his basketball shorts and Fili worms an arm between them because even though his body’s stirring he’s _really_ not in the mood—

                Kili might be the slighter of them but he’s _heavy_ when he wants to be, swiftly flopping on top of Fili and covering him with dead weight which resists any type of movement. Fili tries to push him off but it’s a half-hearted attempt at best and all it earns him is Kili’s weight pressing firmly down on him, against his stirring cock.

                Fili gasps right into Kili’s mouth. “I want you,” Kili growls, and Fili whimpers because it’s so _wrong,_ nothing about this is right—except for the press of Kili’s body against his, his brother’s fingers pressing against his skull, Kili’s hair falling around them, Kili’s words, hot and demanding in his skin. “You didn’t do anything wrong—I want _this_.” As if there’s any way that Fili could mistake what he means, Kili ruts down and despite himself, Fili’s thighs clamp hard around his hips.

                “Not now,” Fili finally gasps when he recovers enough to string a coherent thought together. He quickly continues, despite Kili’s glower. “Mom’s sleeping down the hall…I really don’t…we shouldn’t…” It’s hard to come up with a reason that Kili will accept, especially when his brother’s intent on bringing him to full arousal with nothing more than judiciously applied pressure from his slow thrusts.

                “Kili, stop,” Fili finally pants, grabbing Kili’s shoulders and shaking his little brother. He immediately regrets it as Kili’s eyes open wide in surprise before narrowing.

                “The fuck is _wrong_ with you Fili?” he hisses before he rolls off of Fili and stalks towards the door. He turns back to look at Fili, still flat on his back in the middle of the bed, too stunned to contemplate getting up and going after him. “Seriously, what the fuck?”

                Fili’s afraid that Kili’s going to slam the door when he leaves but Kili must have at least some sense because he shuts it unbearably gently behind him. It’s only when the door shuts that Fili thinks to sit up and try to stop him from leaving but he already knows that it’s too late, that Kili’s retreated to the sanctuary of his room. The door’s probably already locked against him.

                He doesn’t sleep for the rest of the night.

                Thoughts of Kili keep him awake long past the point of sanity as he relives the night, word for word and action by action. He tries to think of where he went wrong and can’t find it—Kili is the one who acted unreasonably, recklessly—Fili’s heart sinks once more as, for what feels like the hundredth time that night, he recalls Kili’s words— _since I was 16. Oh, that’s what everyone sees in him._

He was right. He knows that other pairs of siblings find each other aesthetically pleasing—how many times has he heard Ori complain that Nori would be stunning if he just did something different with his hair? Or Thorin call his mother beautiful? Where did he and Kili go wrong, when did they cross the line? He thought he was aware of when his musings turned sinister, he thought that he could put an exact date on it—when Kili kissed him, sloppy and drunk, on Ori’s bed. But now…had he noticed when Kili had gained muscle in his shoulders? What was his reaction? Had his eyes lingered a little too long when Kili was running around the house clad in nothing more than his boxers? Had he purposefully walked around after his shower with a towel hung dangerously low on his hips?

                His head hurts and by the time that the black of night begins to fade into the murky grey of dawn, he’s no closer to an answer. All that he knows is that his bed seems woefully empty since Kili stormed out and that he’s not any happier for his refusal. Being morally responsible should at least come with a feeling of fulfillment, but all he feels is a sick sort of regret churning in the pit of his stomach. What’s the good of doing the right thing if all it does is make him miserable—and hurt Kili? He finally recognizes Kili’s hurt, hidden in his harsh words, in the swift, almost unnoticeable flinch in his body as Fili told him to stop.

                His feet take him to Kili’s room, tiptoeing on the carpeted hallway, wincing when the house creaks underneath his step. The rap of knuckles against Kili’s door is soft, so much so that Fili doesn’t think that Kili will hear him, but his brother appears after his second try, releasing the lock with a gentle click. Kili’s hair is tousled and the dark circles underneath his exhausted eyes tell Fili that his brother hasn’t slept much more than he has.

                “What do you want?” Kili mumbles. He might sound angry but Fili’s already seen the spark of hope light in those chocolate depths.

                “Pretty much forever,” Fili answers, wrapping his fingers around the doorjamb. Perhaps Kili will think twice on slamming the door shut if it means crushing his fingers.

                Kili’s face registers confusion as his eyes blink away fatigue. “What are you…?” he begins, before Fili interrupts him.

                “How long,” Fili answers, taking a bold step forward into Kili’s personal space. “How long I wanted you…Pretty much forever,” he repeats. It only takes a second for Kili’s eyes to light in understanding and then his brother has closed the distance between them, lips descending on his in a furious apology.  

                Everything about this is wrong, Fili reflects as they stumble into Kili’s room, barely managing to close the door behind them. It bangs shut with a thud which no doubt resonates through the whole house, but for once, he manages not to care, not when Kili’s hands are fisted in the fabric of his shirt, tugging him closer.

                Everything is _wrong—_ save for Kili’s lips on his, greedily stealing his breath, then returning it back to him, Kili’s body against his, warm and solid, the scent of Kili’s hair as it falls around them both, the feel of Kili’s heart as it thuds reassuringly against his chest. Those are _right,_ even though they should not be, and with enough effort Fili manages to shove the screaming voices of outrage to the back of his mind and just _stop_.

                “So…how long?” Kili asks him later as they lie curled up in his bed, watching the sunrise slowly stretch across the horizon. Soon it will be time for Fili to creep back to his room but he can stay for at least a few moments more, savor the feeling of Kili’s chest against his back, Kili’s breath on his neck.

                “Pretty much forever,” Fili repeats, and though the words might not have felt like truth at first, when he utters them this time, they too are _right._


	8. All Along I Believed I Would Find You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That four letter word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For once a not so long wait between updates, HOORAY. 
> 
> Um...I discussed this chapter somewhat on Tumblr, but...please don't hate me? 
> 
> I mean, it's all right if you do I guess, but I'll be sad.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

 

 

**Day 30**

 

                Loathe as he is to admit it, Kili does have a point, Fili decides, as he runs his hand up from Kili’s knee to the crease where his thigh meets his groin. _Why_ haven’t _they done this sooner?_ It’s _good,_ Kili’s whines above him, the small hitches of his breath, the quiver of his legs, the salt taste of pre-cum on his tongue.

                Fili still has no idea how making out turned into hand-jobs, turned into him sucking Kili’s cock, on his knees in front of his brother while Kili sits on the edge of the bed. He thinks that maybe it had something to do with Kili’s shit-eating grin and raised eyebrows as he shoved his hand inside Kili’s boxers. Even though his eyes were hazy with lust Kili had managed to somehow look so _smug,_ such a little daring leer on his face that Fili had torn his pants and boxers off and followed their path downwards to the floor. Kili might have goaded him into action but Fili can’t bring himself to be angry, not when Kili whimpers so sweetly.

                Fili _does_ pride himself on his skill at giving head—after a bit of practice he can ignore his gag reflex as he slides Kili’s cock down his throat. If he could, he would smirk at the choked sob which shakes Kili’s body, how his brother’s spine arches, head thrown back and hair spilling over his shoulders. His hips unknowingly thrust into Fili’s mouth and he has to gently restrain him. Kili’s hands smooth over his head in apology, thumbing at the curve of his ear.

                “Fuck,” Kili breathes, his voice almost lost as he whines, pelvis straining against Fili’s hold. “Fili… _shit…_ ” If his mouth weren’t full Fili would maybe comment on how atrocious Kili’s vocabulary becomes in the heat of the moment but he’s not sure how he measures in comparison. Besides, he has better activities to perform with his mouth. His tongue flicks insistently against the head, dipping into the slit just before he sucks hard.

                Kili actually _howls,_ sharp bones digging into Fili’s palms as his hips wildly buck upwards. There’s no warning before bitter seed fills in his mouth but Fili wasn’t expecting one. Kili’s been reduced to little more than helpless sobs. Tremors shake Kili’s body, reverberating through his hands and Kili’s hold tightens in his hair to the point of actual pain.

                Fili ignores it, concentrating all of his efforts on swallowing everything which Kili has to give, tasting his brother’s essence heavy on his tongue. He keeps on licking, his tongue tracing the inverted V of the head until Kili sobs with over-stimulation and shoves at his head. “Fili,” he gasps, when Fili stays put, suckling gently. _“Fili!”_ he says with more urgency, tugging at his hair. “I…I _can’t…”_ Finally, Fili finds a little bit of mercy and releases Kili’s softening cock. To assuage his sense of loss, he nips at Kili’s inner thigh, the limb jerking underneath his mouth. The skin is soft and damp with sweat as he nuzzles it, tongue licking at the pink mark he just created.

                “Come, come here,” Kili pants, feebly yanking at Fili’s shirt. Helpless to resist, Fili rises and bends Kili backwards. His broader frame covers the slender one of his brother, knees pressed into Kili’s waist. His fingers comb through the dark hair as he kisses him, open-mouthed and panting. Kili wriggles back on the bed and Fili follows, mouthing desperate kisses into Kili’s neck and jaw.

                When they were younger he was able to pin Kili to the ground within moments of beginning a wrestling match, trapping his brother’s arms behind his back until Kili screamed. It comes as a surprise that Kili reverses their positions so easily, his hands unforgiving on his arms and legs wrapped around his waist as he twists. Fili grunts when his back hits the mattress, the air knocked out of his lungs by Kili’s ungentle handling.

                “My turn big brother.” Kili’s smirk is possibly the filthiest thing Fili’s ever seen, dripping with sex and promise.

                “You don’t have to— _ah!”_ Fili’s protests end abruptly when Kili grinds down on him, the sudden friction against his already constrained prick almost overwhelming.

                “Fuck you, I want to,” Kili whispers as he kisses down Fili’s neck. Wet heat trails down his tender skin and Fili can’t even bring himself to care that there’ll probably be marks by nightfall. “C’mon Fee…”

                Maybe someone else could tell Kili no but it’s not going to be him—not when Kili hovers above him, the dark brown of his eyes still almost eclipsed by the black circles of his pupils. Fili nods, his mouth dry as he imagines Kili’s touch on him—rutting against the sheets or Kili’s hip while gasping into Kili’s mouth was already phenomenal but this…Kili glances up as he pushes his shirt up, exposing the pale skin of his stomach to the cool air. Kili’s palm is scorching hot against his skin and his tongue is nothing less than a flame licking around his stomach.

                Ridiculous, to be so aroused by something so simple as a kiss to his navel. He’d always thought that the act itself was a little cliché, as his bellybutton had never seemed to possess any particularly sensitivity. That was before he’d known the liquid blaze of Kili’s mouth against his skin, fingers gripping his waist before they dip daringly underneath the waistband of his shorts.

                “Shit,” Fili hisses as he clenches his fists to still the tiny rolls of his hips. He knows he’s too desperate, too eager—Kili’s going to mock him mercilessly for this…Except Kili’s face is flushed and wondering, the tiny smile on his face incongruent with the fact that his fingers are fumbling with the button on his shorts. “Let me,” Fili pants, reaching down with shaking hands to thumb his shorts open.

                “I’ve got it, I’ve got it.” Kili’s voice is little more than a hushed whisper as he slides the zipper down. Fili swears that he can hear the teeth releasing one by one as the stifling pressure on his cock lessens. “Let me, I want to…”

                So good, _so good,_ to feel the softest hint of a breeze against his heated skin as Kili pulls his shorts down. The pull of cotton on his cock is an agonizing tease, one which Fili doesn’t think he can stand—until it’s suddenly gone, and his boxers are down around his upper thighs.

                Feeling suddenly vulnerable, Fili glances down his body. The sight is enough to make his breath catch in his throat, his cock twitching against his stomach with a sudden lust. Kili lies curled between his spread legs, gazing down at him with an expression that he can only term as adoration. “Fuck,” Kili breathes. It looks like it takes effort for him to focus on Fili’s eyes but once he does, a shaky smile sits on his lips. “God, you’re…This is…”

                “I know,” Fili responds, chest heaving as he tries to force more air into his lungs. “God, I know…” He reaches out for Kili and his brother catches his wrist in both of his hands, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to his palm. Fili groans as Kili’s tongue flicks around the pads of his finger, the fleeting contact promising so much.

                “Fili, can I…?” Kili asks, lips brushing his fingers as he speaks. His eyes flick down to Fili’s cock and back to his eyes as he nervously licks his lips.

                It takes Fili several seconds to comprehend the question, his mind lazily connecting the words together into a sentence. “What?” he manages to slur, his brain sluggish from the sheer amount of need screaming in his blood.

                “I want to…want to blow you,” Kili says, a faint flush appearing on his tanned cheeks. “Can I?”

                In any other situation Fili might be embarrassed by how his cock actually dribbles at Kili’s words, dripping onto his stomach and matting the blonde hair. But that hardly matters to him, not when Kili’s words echo in his mind. It would have been good enough to have those strong fingers around his prick, the slow drag of callused skin against sensitive skin just short of painful but—

                _“Fuck,_ ” Fili chokes out, his thumb sweeping over Kili’s lips. To have those wrapped around his cock, those devilish dark eyes staring up at him as he bobs up and down…Another bead of pre-come wells up and Fili doesn’t even bother to feel ashamed.

                There might be a small shade of worry in Fili’s mind as to Kili’s inexperience but a heated kiss to his hip serves to banish almost any worries from his mind. To feel that tongue…to know that it’s _Kili_ …Kili’s fingers card hesitantly through the dark gold curls at his groin before wrapping around the base of his cock. “Shit,” Fili hisses, fighting to keep his eyes open, because he has to see this, it’s what he’s wanted for so long, Kili’s tongue peeking out from between his lips to lap delicately at the head…

                “Watch your teeth,” Fili gasps, mouth opening as the touch of Kili’s tongue becomes firmer, pressing against his leaking slit. Kili’s eyes flit up to meet his and _fuck,_ it’s everything that he dreamed it would be, sparkling deviousness held within those deep chocolate depths, lips curving in a smirk before Kili wraps his lips around his head and sucks.

                The original plan was to keep his eyes on Kili but when his back arches off the bed the plan changes. The new angle pushes his dick further into Kili’s mouth and Fili groans at the sensation. His hands slap at the mattress, gripping the sheet in clenched palms. Fisting his hands in Kili’s long hair would have been more satisfying but he’s not entirely sure he could control himself from ripping the dark hair out at the roots. It’s hard enough just to keep his hips still and not buck into his baby brother’s mouth but _fuck_ it feels good, just the right amount of suction, tongue prodding curiously at the slit.

                “Fuck, Kee… _god_ …’s good…” Unseeing eyes take in the small details on the ceiling, little whorls of plaster. He counts backwards from fifteen in his mind because he can’t come yet, not when Kili’s just started. It’s so good and he wants more, he wants this never to stop, he _won’t_ come yet…

                His resolve starts to crumble when Kili’s mouth starts to swallow him down, creeping down inch by cautious inch. Fili’s breathing comes in erratic spurts as Kili slides back up. How has he never known that his brother’s mouth held such blazing heat?

                Too much, especially when Kili’s fingers stroke over his balls before holding them in his palm. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Fili chants, toes curling into the sheets. His teeth chew furiously on his lower lip, holding in the pathetic whimpers which want to escape. The touch on his sac is a shade too light, the friction not quite enough but it’s still good, so blindingly amazing, Kili’s hands on him, his mouth, the small moans and slurps which tumble out of his brother’s mouth.

                “Kee…” Fili’s breath comes in shallow gulps as his orgasm pools low in his belly. “Fuck…” The pressure increases exponentially as Kili hums around his cock. The vibrations travel through him and he helplessly arches as his finish relentlessly approaches. “Fuck Kee, I’m gonna, I’m— _fuck Kee I’m—“_

                Fili’s back arches as he releases with a hoarse cry. His hips buck upwards, forcing his cock deeper into Kili’s throat. His vision fades in a blast of white as his hearing fades to a faint buzz—he thinks he can hear the inelegant sound of gagging but nothing matters, not when his whole body shakes with the force of his orgasm. From a distance he’s aware that half-formed expletives are streaming from his mouth but he still can’t bring himself to care, not until the knife’s edge of his climax begins to soften.

                Cognizance takes a while to form and Fili has no wish to hurry it along. Instead, he savors the dopey aftermath of his orgasm, as his heartbeat returns to normal and the sweat begins to dry on his body. The light drag of fingers along his upper thighs makes him shiver, the motion somehow pleasant and comforting. “Good?” Kili murmurs, his voice throatier than normal.

                His limbs feel heavier than normal, as though his bones have been replaced with lead. Still, Fili manages to push himself up on his elbows and looks down his body. Kili still sprawls across his shins, sharp angles beginning to make themselves known. Everything, even the discomfort fades, however, when he looks at his little brother.

                Thick, pearly strands of seed stain Kili’s face, clinging to the stubble on his jaw, the plush curve of his lips, the dip underneath his nose. Fili moans, deep and desperate, as he attempts to lunge forward and pull Kili on top of him. He fails and falls backward, but Kili somehow correctly interprets his intentions and crawls up his body. Fili spreads his legs, Kili’s body slotting neatly between them and he has to bite back a whimper as his brother’s bare skin brushes against his still tender cock.

                Up close, Kili looks even more debauched and for once, Fili can’t bring himself to care that he’s corrupted his baby brother. He only recognizes the satisfaction of seeing his spend on Kili’s face, knowing that in some important way this _matters,_ that this is a form of possession more primitive and perhaps more binding than anything else he could fathom. Kili’s mouth is hot and hungry when it covers his and Fili eagerly kisses him back, tasting himself on Kili’s tongue, in the subtle chapped places on Kili’s lips.

                “Shit,” Kili shakily laughs as he pulls away, hands batting at Fili’s shoulders. “Fee…” His laugh turns into a strangled groan as Fili’s thumb swipes over his chin, gathering as much of his come as he can, leaving nothing other than a sticky residue behind. He locks his eyes with Kili’s, makes sure that his brother’s paying attention before he slowly swallows his thumb down, working his tongue around every tiny surface of the digit. Just to tease, he opens wide and licks, tongue curling around the thick knuckle. He finally finishes with a pop that sounds almost pornographic and knows he’s succeeded when Kili just stares slack-jawed at him.

                He should have known that Kili would never be happy to come in second, that his little brother would always want to show his superiority. But he never would have predicted that he would do this, trailing his finger through the seed remaining on his cheek, coating the tip in the thick pearly substance. After his brain has a chance to comprehend what Kili’s doing, Fili thinks that he’s ready for Kili to pay him back in kind, performing his own kind of tease, reminding him exactly what his tongue’s capable of—not that Fili would have forgotten so soon. What he’s not ready for is Kili’s finger pushing into his mouth, the edge of his nail sharp against his tongue, his own seed easily mingling with the aftertaste of Kili in his mouth. Fili finally starts to realize that maybe Kili isn’t the one in trouble here—maybe it’s always been him in peril and he’s only starting to realize it now.

 

 

                Later, after Kili’s tank top was sacrificed to clean their sweat and come stained bodies, they lie next to each other, limbs easily slotted over and in between each other’s. Fili’s content to let Kili’s head rest on his chest, his brother’s warm breath sending small goosebumps over his skin every time he exhales. He’s finally gotten over the shock of finding out that his baby brother’s a deviant and now he only has one lingering concern.

                “That…that wasn’t the first time you’ve done that.” After the words are out in the open, Fili winces, wishing that he’d said something, _anything_ other than that. Stated so baldly, the words sound like an accusation. Kili stiffens against him and Fili tightens his arms around him, rubbing his back in a wordless apology.

                “No,” Kili finally says, his tone clipped and leaving little room for any curiosity. They’re both tense for a moment, hardly breathing as they wait to see what the other will do. With a violent wrench, Kili breaks the stalemate, flipping himself away from Fili and onto his side. His brother’s knees draw up close to his chest and Fili’s stomach churns with an uneasy guilt. Kili might just be in a snit but there’s something vulnerable about his position.

                “Hey,” he murmurs, propping himself up on his elbow as his free hand rubs small circles into Kili’s shoulder. “Hey, I’m sorry.”

                “’s fine,” Kili mumbles, irritably twitching at his touch. Fili frowns as he pulls his hand away but only for a moment. With a light tug on his shoulder, Kili rolls onto his back, a ferocious glower darkening his face. “What?” he snaps, but his eyes flicker, so fast that Fili almost thinks that he missed it, before he catches the slight downturn of Kili’s lips. No one else, perhaps, would understand, but to Fili it’s a language as clear as spoken word—Kili’s upset, maybe even ashamed.

                “Not a bad thing,” Fili whispers, brushing the tip of his nose against Kili’s. Sometimes it feels strange, the intimate tenderness that they’re developing, but most of the time everything slots together so perfectly that Fili can’t help but think that somehow, this must be _right._ “Felt fucking amazing.”

                “I could tell,” Kili replies. He tries to keep his face impassive but his lips jerk upwards as he briefly wiggles his eyebrows. Despite himself, Fili blushes. Not that he’s ashamed of his orgasm—far from it—but he can already tell that Kili’s going to be a little shit about how vocal he is, how fast he comes with nothing more than Kili’s mouth around him.

                “Shut up,” Fili grumbles. The words come easily from his lips but when Kili jerks away from him he knows that once more he’s managed to say the wrong words. Kili’s upper lip starts to curl upwards into what Fili knows is an indicator that his brother’s about to become an unholy monster and with nothing else to lose, he says the thought that’s been lurking in the back of his mind ever since Kili first sucked him down. “I’m just jealous of whoever got to teach you.”

                The words have their intended effect—the mutinous snarl shatters, to be replaced by a comical look of surprise. Kili tries to recover, sputtering out an ineffective, “What makes you think that I had to be _taught?_ ” but the faint pink touching his ears says more about his mood than any words could.

                It comes as a relief when Kili pushes up and slides his lower lip in between both of Fili’s. The distraction works, as his hand slides over Kili’s clavicle to cradle his head, the tips of his fingers pushing past his brother’s ears and into his hair. The kiss saves him from demanding to know what other cocks his brother’s taken down, how many other bastards got to spill on his face, if Kili swallowed for them, if Kili shouted their names…

                Fili kisses him harder, trying to chase the thoughts out of his mind. Not any of his business who else Kili’s slept with but the thought of his brother’s lean body stretched out over someone else fills him with an inexplicable rage. He almost wants to ask if Kili’s jealous of him but he hesitates, unsure if he really wants to hear the answer.

                Kili gasps into his mouth, surprised by his sudden fierceness, though he swiftly returns the sentiment, sharp canines nipping at his lips as his fingers fist around the hair at the base of Fili’s neck. A harsh yank pulls him away from Kili’s mouth and for a moment he jerks against the hold before his dazed eyes focus on Kili’s determined face. “It was Mark, from the archery team, junior year.”

                “Don’t care,” Fili pants, straining forward against Kili’s unrelenting hold. Not true, he cares more than he should, but he doesn’t want to picture a sixteen year old Kili, face boyishly thin and body just beginning to fill out, on his knees in front of some loser—doesn’t want to think about what it says about him that he’s starting to work himself up with nothing more than that thought.

                “It was just a few times,” Kili says, clever fingers twisting sharply in Fili’s hair. Tears prick at the corners of his eyes as Kili continues, “Just because…because I wanted to see what it was like and he had a crush on me…” Fili’s eyes close as he conjures up an image of sixteen year old Kili. Lanky, thin, an awkward spattering of stubble, and a voice that broke more often than not—how could anyone _not_ have a crush on him, especially when he laughed, clear and high?

                “How was it?” His voice is thick, he doesn’t want to know, but he can’t stop himself from asking—Kili’s lips around someone else. Maybe it was even in his bedroom while he was just a room over, unsuspecting…It shouldn’t matter, it doesn’t matter, but it _does._

                “Wasn’t you,” Kili answers, and it’s the most perfect answer he could have ever conjured up, even though everything about it is so _wrong,_ so _awful_ …His lips crash onto Kili’s, gratefulness pouring out of him in a wordless torrent as he tries to make Kili understand how much he needed that answer, how much it means to him.

                “Love you,” he murmurs against Kili’s lips when he parts for air. He doesn’t think, the words just tumble out and he only realizes what he’s done a second too late, after Kili’s breath hitches. Fili rears back, wild eyes frantically searching Kili’s stunned face. So strange, to realize that there might be a deeper meaning to a phrase they’ve so thoughtlessly uttered countless times, until it’s become almost a reflex.

                “I didn’t…I, I…” Is he going to deny what he felt when he spoke, tell Kili that it was just like always? That he just meant it _as a brother_ , when he’s naked, the taste of Kili’s seed still faint on his lips? It wasn’t how he intended the words and he knows it. It was contentment, pleasure and possession, the fulfillment which only came when he was blissfully unconcerned with whatever might be lurking outside the bedroom door. It was being happy falling asleep with Kili’s breath heavy against the back of his neck, waking up to the almost faded scent of his brother’s deodorant and soap.

                Kili’s legs clamp around his waist, squeezing painfully tight as his arms wrap around his shoulders and pull their chests flush together. Kili’s nose digs into the crook of his shoulder and they rock slightly as Kili’s grip tightens until Fili’s wheezing for breath. “I love you,” Kili finally chokes out, and Fili somehow understands that it’s a weight lifted off of Kili’s chest, a burden that until a month ago he never suspected that carefree, reckless Kili might be carrying. “Fuck, I love you.”

                “It’s all right,” Fili soothes, his hands smoothing along Kili’s ribs, tracing the outline of the bones until Kili relaxes underneath him. “It’s all right, it’s all right.” Stupid phrase but it always works—Kili shudders once, breath calming from little aborted gasps into something more regular and controlled, though he doesn’t release his hold on Fili. “I’m not going anywhere,” Fili reassures him, reaching up to run his fingers over Kili’s bicep.

                “Fuck, Fee…” Fingernails dig into the back of his neck, blunt pain scoring across nerves but Fili turns his head and kisses Kili’s temple, his cheek, eyelids—Any part of Kili which his lips can reach is worshipped until Kili finally relaxes underneath him.

                With a jolt, Fili finally realizes why Kili’s eyes are still wide and fearful. He can’t blame his sibling—his words are enough to make him want to run, want to flee the realization that though he’s always loved his brother, he’s never _loved_ him, wanted to swallow him down until he can’t tell where he begins and Kili ends, until there’s no barrier between them. It’s terrifying for him, so he can’t imagine what it must be like for Kili, Kili who was such a better liar than he could have ever imagined…

                “I love you,” Fili repeats, clearly, so there’s no misinterpretation. Directly after he speaks his stomach drops, like he’s just taken the first dip in a rollercoaster. His equilibrium only returns when Kili kisses him, mouth open and frantic against his, somehow righting everything.

 

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

 

**Day –649**

Fili doesn’t bother to pay attention when Kili’s friend—Mark? Matthew? stomps past him on the stairs, going down as he’s coming up. He thinks vaguely that the boy might be on his brother’s archery team but he’s not sure. Not that it really matters—Kili has lots of friends and they’re always coming and going. He’s not fond of the revolving door of teenagers tromping through the house but his mother doesn’t mind Kili’s friends coming over and he can’t really tell Kili anything.

                When he reaches the landing he sees that Kili’s door’s open just a hair. He sticks his head in, finding Kili sitting on the edge of his bed, long hair loose and tangled around his face. Kili’s face is preoccupied, almost worried, and he rubs at his chin as though there’s a stain there. At the sound of his door creaking, Kili looks up, eyes wide with surprise.

                “What do you want?” he demands, voice wobbling and breaking. He flushes as Fili bites back a snicker. It’s been happening more and more lately, yet it never gets old.

                “Nothing,” he shrugs, leaning against the doorframe as he loosens his tie. “Saw your door was open, thought I’d say hi. You go to school like that?” He points to the rat’s nest masquerading as Kili’s hair. Kili actually looks embarrassed as he reaches up and finger-combs some of the worst knots out. Fili almost comments on it but decides to let it pass. If he brought up every weird thing that Kili did then he would never get anything done. Still, there’s always fun to be had. “Passed your little boyfriend on the stairs.” If he didn’t know better then he would say that Kili actually flinches.

                “He’s not my boyfriend!” Kili insists, his flush darkening.

                “Oh, all right, sure he isn’t.” An inarticulate growl is the only answer that he gets and Kili’s hands start pawing on his bed. Fili laughs at him—it’s so easy to push Kili’s buttons, touchy little bastard that he is—and Kili’s hands light on a paperback. Fili ducks away as Kili’s arm rears back to throw, slamming the door shut just in time to hear the dull thud of impact. He laughs to himself all the way to his room, kicking off his shoes and flopping down on his bed.

                Later that night he’s deep within a book when his door creaks open and Fili rolls his eyes at the intrusion. “Go away,” he drawls without bothering to look away. He’s not surprised when, instead of the door shutting, he hears soft footsteps padding across the carpet towards his bed. The bottom dips down and Fili finally drags his nose out of the paperback, glaring at Kili over the top of the book.

                To his credit, Kili at least looks troubled, though he’s not optimistic enough to think that Kili’s upset at having disturbed him. They sit there in silence for a moment, Kili looking miserable and not meeting his eyes, before Fili finally sighs and sets his book aside. Kili looks up at him at that, nervously chewing his bottom lip. “What do you want?” Fili finally asks, folding his arms as he waits.

                As Kili twists his hands Fili starts to feel a little guilty. Kili honestly looks troubled, eyebrows furrowed in uncommon seriousness. The silence drags out and Fili squirms uncomfortably. This might actually be serious. “Hey, is everything ok?” he asks, mind automatically jumping to a thousand horrible scenarios. Suddenly, he wishes he was nicer this afternoon.

                “How do you know when you’re in love?” Kili blurts. The question is so unexpected that Fili actually jerks backward.

                “Wha…You’re sixteen,” Fili observes as he tries to kick his brain into working. For a moment all he wants to do is laugh but even he knows that this is the wrong approach—Kili already looks uncomfortable and vaguely terrified. If he thought that Fili was going to make fun of him then there’s no doubt in Fili’s mind that they would come to blows. He would win but Kili would probably start screaming just to be a little shit.

                “So?”

                “So…” There’s really no nice way to say it. “That’s not love, that’s your dick talking.”

                The tips of Kili’s ears start to turn bright red and he balls his hands into tight fists. “You don’t know anything about it!”

                “I was your age, I know plenty about it.”

                “No, you know about you. You don’t know shit about me.” It’s difficult but Fili suppresses the urge to roll his eyes. He hopes that he was nowhere near this self-absorbed when he was sixteen. He doesn’t think he was.

                “Look…” He can feel a sudden headache coming on and he digs merciless fingers into his temples to try and stave off the pain. Why is _he_ forced to give this talk to his brother? “You think you’re in love but trust me, it’s just your dick wanting to get laid. Go jerk off and it’ll pass.”

                “Fuck you!” The abrupt shrillness of Kili’s temper breaking startles Fili enough that he jerks backward, foot shooting out to catch his balance. Kili stands up, both of his hands clenched in fists. “Stop acting like you’re better than me!”

                “I’m not,” Fili says automatically, because what else can he do? Kili’s glare deepens and Fili tries another tactic. “Look, I’m sorry. Just…just sit down.” Kili furiously opens his mouth but Fili cuts off another tantrum. “I can’t talk to you when you’re getting ready to punch me.”

                Kili waits for a moment before he throws himself down on the foot of Fili’s bed. His scowl hasn’t diminished any but they’re not fighting and Fili’s willing to chart that as a victory. “Is it…Mark?” Fili asks, taking a stab at the name.

                “No!” Kili says, eyes widening in disbelief. “Mark’s just…he’s a friend!”

                “Just asking,” Fili placates, holding his hands in the air. “If it was then we’d have to have a whole other talk.”

                Kili rolls his eyes. “I’ve told you before, not a big deal. Don’t know why you always think it is.”

                “Shut up pipsqueak.” At the nickname Kili punches his calf, though not as hard as he could. Fili rolls his eyes as he rubs the sore spot on his calf. Stupid yes, but he’s got to get all the use out of that slur that he can. Kili might not have noticed yet but Fili knows that it’s only a matter of time before his younger sibling towers over him. “Anyway. Why do you think you’re in love?”

                “Dunno,” Kili mutters, scratching at the back of his neck. Fili sighs, loud enough that Kili can hear him. “That’s why I asked you! You’re supposed to know everything!”

                A little thread of guilt winds its way through Fili. “I’m sorry all right?” He actually is and he softens when Kili’s shoulders slump from their defensive posture. “Look, I don’t know what to tell you. It’s…it’s different for everyone.”

                “But how was it for you then?” Kili guilelessly asks. Fili inhales, postponing thinking about Noah as long as he can.

                “It was…One day I just looked at him and I knew.” Kili’s face falls. “Look, it’s not like fireworks or a bell ringing or anything like that. Most of the time it’s slow and you don’t realize it until it’s already happened.”

                “But how could you tell?” Kili’s eyes are earnest as he leans forward. He looks so desperate that Fili can’t even bring himself to dissemble.

                “I just…I realized that I really liked everything about him. Even the habits that drove me crazy and made me want to punch him…I even liked those because if he didn’t have them then he wouldn’t be the same person, right? I…I wanted to do really stupid stuff with him and I wanted to argue with him because I knew at the end of it that we would still be there.” Dull pain twists his chest as he thinks about that night, over a year ago, in the front seat of his car, Noah’s surprised look when Fili had said that it was over…

                “I’m explaining it all wrong,” he sighs, the pain in his head intensifying. He looks up to find Kili’s eyes still fixed on him, looking at him like he holds all the answers to the universe. “Look…you’ll know all right? When it happens, you’ll just know.”

                Kili’s face falls and Fili speaks, grasping at loose straws, trying to find an answer that’s conclusive and honest all at once. “If you’re asking yourself if it’s love, chances are it’s pretty close already,” he tries.

                Kili’s face goes through several interesting changes—he lights up, eyes sparkling before he slumps once again, face scrunching in thought. Fili hopes that he hasn’t sent his little brother off on a destructive path—love couldn’t be that wrong right? Telling Kili that he might be in love—at least what passes for a teenager’s approximation—there are several things that could go wrong here but at least none of them involve him.

                “Just be careful,” he tries, reaching out and shaking Kili’s shoulder lightly. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

                “I think I already have,” Kili says, fingers playing at his lips for a moment before he stands up. “Thanks Fee,” he says, self-consciously tucking his hands into his pockets and scuffing the carpet.

                “Yeah, anytime,” Fili answers. He’s not sure why he feels like he’s failed some test but he’s still left with a lingering feeling dissatisfaction, like he could have done so much better. Kili turns to leave but some unknown impulse makes him call out, “Love you.”

                Kili turns around and smiles. His heart twists, a sudden pain in his chest, unknown and yet familiar. With two large steps, Kili’s even with him, arms tight around his shoulders, the smooth skin of his cheek against the five o’clock stubble on his. “Love you,” Kili whispers. With a quick squeeze, Kili releases him and strides towards the door. “Thanks,” he calls over his shoulder, the door shutting quietly behind him.

                Fili gnaws nervously at his lower lip long after Kili’s left, finally embracing the dull throbbing pain which contentedly settles in his skull. He still can’t shake the feeling as though he’s made a mistake somewhere along the way but every time he replays the conversation he doesn’t see how it could have gone any differently.

                “Fuck it,” he finally mutters, hand striking blindly at his lamp. The room darkens and he drags his pillow over his face. The thick down muffles any lingering sound or noise and he waits for sleep to come.

 

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

 

**Day 547**

                One icon, one sentence. Fili sees it when he accidentally presses his thumb to the Facebook app on his phone. He doesn’t mean to look but he can’t stop once he sees the heart and the name, even though he wants to, even though he’s suddenly nauseous and trembling, how did he not think that this would happen, was he really stupid enough to think…

                One icon. One sentence.

                A heart. _Kili Durin is in a relationship with Tauriel Kingsguard._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -creeps and hides-


	9. When All Your Love is Gone Who Will Save Me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fili meets the important people in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look guys, I'M NOT DEAD.
> 
> Seriously though, I do apologize for the length of time it took to get this chapter out. I had computer problems and life problems and...Blah. No more excuses. Have a chapter.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

               

 

 

**Day –6569**

Fili doesn’t like the hospital. The smells make his nose sting and his eyes water and everything’s bright and white. Everything makes his head hurt and he scrubs at his eyes. He doesn’t want to be here—he misses playing with Ori. Dori might scold a lot but he also bakes cookies and everything at his house smells like freshly cooked bread and spices.

                His father’s hand is so large that it swallows his as they walk down the hallway together. Faceless people walk by them, all of them moving quickly. Looking at them makes him dizzy so he focuses on the ugly tile underneath his feet, squinting at the bright reflections. His father’s shoes are familiar and Fili keeps those in the corner of his eye, the shiny brown leather comforting in this strange place.

                They walk into a room and finally, even though the walls and floors don’t change, Fili thinks that this room is better. The first person he sees is Uncle Thorin. His uncle smiles at him but he still looks tired, like he stayed up too late. But his uncle is forgotten when he sees the person reclining in the bed.

                “Mama!” His mother smiles at him as he runs up to the bed, hands already reaching out towards her. He’s missed her, ever since his father told him that the baby was coming and he was going to have to stay with Dori for a little bit. He wants to climb up onto the bed and lie against her like he does when they’re at home but this bed is too high and he can’t find anything to climb on top of.  

                His father solves the problem, easily lifting him up onto the bed. “Be careful, your Mom’s had a hard couple of days,” his father cautions, hand pausing to brush some of his mother’s hair away.

                He didn’t have to be told—the amount of wires coming out of his mother’s body is scary. They brush against him as she hugs him and he tries not to show how much it bothers him. He hugs her tight, pushing his face close into her neck. She smells like the hospital—all sharp and tingly, not like she normally smells, like flowers and laundry. Still, her arms feel the same and he feels better than he has in days.

                “Are you ok?” he asks, staring carefully at his mother’s face. Up close she looks more exhausted than even Thorin but then she blinks hard and her dazzling smile beams down upon him.

                “I’m fine baby.” Her arms squeeze his body tightly and Fili relinquishes himself to the embrace, his small arms wrapping as far around his mother’s body as they can reach. “Have you been good?” He nods, happiness flaring inside him in response to her smile. “Been giving Dori a hard time?” He shakes his head, deciding not mention that Dori had gotten mad at him and Ori last night when they’d stayed up late talking instead of sleeping. “That’s my man,” she sighs, resting her cheek on top of his head.

                “You want to see your brother?” Fili looks backwards at his father and tries not to wrinkle his nose in distaste. He doesn’t much care for his brother. Nori had said that a brother was nothing but something that cried and whined and smelt weird. He’d much rather stay in bed with his mother, where it feels safe.

                “Come on Fili, we’ll go see Kili.” Thorin speaks for the first time as he stands up. Fili can’t help but giggle at the loud pop of his uncle’s back when he straightens. Then Thorin holds his hand out expectantly and Fili stops laughing, realizing that Thorin actually wants him to come with him.

                He looks towards his father for support but his father also holds out his hand. “Why don’t you go with Uncle Thorin and see Kili? You can come back here right afterwards.” Fili frowns, as he looks towards his mother, silently pleading with her.

                “You’ll want to see him,” his mother says, ruffling his hair. “Come back here afterwards and we can watch some TV all right?”

                With the three of them against him, Fili knows that he can’t win. He tries to hide his frown as his father easily lifts him down from the bed and Thorin takes his hand. Thorin’s hands are rougher than his father’s, easily engulfing his. Thorin walks faster than his father, his feet stretching out longer, even as Fili tries to linger backwards to catch a glimpse of his parents .

                His father bends over his mother, his lips on her forehead. She reaches out towards him, her hands on his face and shoulders. “How are you really feeling?” His father’s low voice asks.

                His mother sighs and Fili wonders why she sounds so sad. “Tired,” she says, with a little laugh in her voice. “Worried. Ready to go home.”

                “The doctors say that he’s doing fine. He should be out of NICU by tomorrow and we’ll all be back home by the end of the week. We’ll all be fine.” His mother turns her face up towards his father and Fili turns away just when their lips meet.

                He looks guiltily up at Thorin but to his surprise Thorin doesn’t look mad. He actually looks a little sad. The squeeze on his hand is almost painful but Fili knows that his uncle meant it to be nice. “Give your mom and dad some time all right?” he says. “We don’t have to go see your brother, we can just go eat at the cafeteria if you want to.”

                “No, I want to see him,” Fili insists. He doesn’t actually want to but he thinks that his mom will be sad if he says that he didn’t see him. Besides, he’s a little curious about this thing that’s managed to turn his life upside down. He thinks that it will possibly have fangs. At the very least it will look ugly.

                “All right,” Thorin says, and from his voice and the warm look in his eyes Fili knows that he’s made the right choice, the one that makes his uncle happy. They walk down another hallway and Fili clutches Thorin’s hand tighter. He knows that if he gets separated from Thorin now he’ll never manage to find his way back.

                They finally come to a room that’s brighter and busier than all the others. Legs rush past Fili and the faces attached to them all seem worried or angry, their eyebrows drawn down low in front of their eyes. Fili instinctively moves closer to Thorin’s leg, trusting that his uncle will protect him. One of the people stops and talks to his uncle for a moment and Thorin responds, their voices too low for Fili to fully understand what’s being said. He does see the other person nod and Thorin again moves, though it’s difficult for him to keep his stride smooth with Fili clinging to the fabric of his pants.

                They stop in front of some sort of machine but it’s nothing like Fili’s ever seen before in his life. It looks like a box but it’s clear with weird circles on the sides. As they get closer to the box Fili notices a rhythmic beeping noise, sounding every other second. Unconsciously, he adjusts his breathing to the sound, the two somehow melding together.

                “What’s that?” he asks, tugging on Thorin’s fingers. He thought that he was going to see his new brother, not some weird space box.

                “It’s your brother,” Thorin answers, and Fili wrinkles his nose. Thorin doesn’t usually play tricks on him, not like Dwalin and Bofur do at least, but obviously his uncle must be joking.

                Thorin’s hands are almost the size of his torso as his uncle easily lifts him and rests his weight on his hip. From his new height Fili can see that box isn’t empty—there’s an odd little pink thing resting in the middle. It looks almost like…

                “That’s your brother,” Thorin says, his voice soft in his ear. “That’s Kili.”

                “Why is he in a box?” Fili asks.

                A deep inhalation of breath answers his question and Fili quietly waits. He knows that sometimes he asks things and the adults around him aren’t willing to answer him—several questions have made his father mutter “Go ask your mother” as he busies himself with something—and he also knows that Thorin will always try to answer his questions. He appreciates his uncle’s honesty. It makes him feel grown-up.

                “It’s a little hard to…” Thorin begins and stops as he closes his eyes. “See, the baby lives inside the mommy for a little while but it doesn’t eat like you or I do. It needs a special…it has a special string to help it eat and get big while it’s inside her.”

                “Did I have one?” Fili asks, attention momentarily drawn from the box to Thorin’s face. He’s intrigued by the idea that he too might have had a magical string that let him eat but not eat while he was curled up inside his mother.

                “Yes you did,” Thorin says, then pokes the tip of a finger right into his bellybutton. “It was right here!” Fili giggles a little bit as Thorin’s finger wiggles and pokes into his stomach but his mood shifts when Thorin resumes speaking.

                “Sometimes, there’s a problem with the string though. Sometimes it gets wrapped around the baby’s neck and the baby can’t breathe right after it’s born. So they have to put it here to make sure that it’s good and strong before it can go home. That’s what happened to Kili—it’s why he hasn’t come home yet and why your mommy’s not allowed to go home either.”

                “Is he going to be all right?” Fili asks. He might not like the little pink creature squirming around in the box but he knows from his first swimming lesson that not breathing is a scary experience. He wonders if Kili was scared when he wasn’t able to breathe.

                “He’s going to be fine,” Thorin says, and his voice is so deep and calm that Fili can’t help but believe him. “He has you to look after him, doesn’t he?”

                “Don’t want to look after him,” Fili immediately replies, a pout forming on his face. “He looks weird.”

                Thorin actually laughs at this, his mirth shaking his body and causing Fili’s small body to jerk in his grasp. “That’s because he’s just been born,” his uncle assures him. “You looked exactly like him when you were born.”

                “Did not,” Fili immediately replies, though he doesn’t see why Thorin would lie to him. He’s certain that he didn’t look that squashed and red though, with a smattering of dark hair atop his head. For one thing, his hair is bright yellow. Thorin wisely chooses not to argue with him.

                “You can touch him if you want to,” Thorin suggests, eyebrow raising at the incredulous look he receives from his nephew. Now Thorin really must be joking. Looking is one thing but touching—the tiny little thing looks like it might fall apart underneath Fili’s hand, like a fragile glass ornament which breaks entirely too easily. Plus Fili doesn’t know how that red skin feels but he can’t imagine that it’s good. Nothing that looks gross ever feels nice.

                “He won’t hurt you, there’s no reason to be scared,” Thorin assures him and Fili’s chest puffs out at the idea that he could be scared of something so small.

                “I’m not scared!” he insists. When Thorin smiles Fili’s first thought is that he’s walked straight into a trap. His hunch is proved correct when Thorin shifts his grip to hold his waist, leaning closer to the box.

                “Just put your hand through the hole in front of you,” he says, leaning closer so Fili can reach forward. He’s not sure about this and really doesn’t want to but he’s _not_ scared of Kili, so he bravely reaches forward and puts his arm through the hole.

                Nothing attacks him, no alarms sound and his arm remains thankfully whole. Just to be sure that it’s all right Fili wiggles his fingers several times. When he’s convinced that everything remains the same he stretches out. For all his red squashyness, Kili looks basically the same as a babydoll—his arms and fists are particularly similar. Fili stretches his hand out towards a miniscule fist. All he has to do is touch it once and then he’s done and he’s proved to his uncle that he wasn’t scared.

                He’s not prepared for the softness of the skin underneath his finger, softer than his mother’s hands right after she’s put on lotion, softer than his blanket—For a moment Fili is afraid—not for himself but afraid that he’s actually managed to hurt Kili. He goes to pull back, only to receive his second surprise. In the brief second that he wasn’t paying attention Kili’s miniature fingers have closed around his, keeping his hand hostage with a surprisingly tight grip. It reminds him of holding his father or his uncle’s hand—the smaller fingers clutching around a single, larger digit.

                _Not fair,_ Fili helplessly thinks as he starts to smile, his cheeks aching with the feel of it. He hasn’t smiled in days, not since his father whisked his mother away and now he’s grinning at this, at Kili holding his finger. He was prepared to hate Kili, to find nothing more than a squalling monster but instead he notices that Kili’s nails are perfectly formed and white and that occasionally, Kili’s feet will flail.

                “Hi Kili,” he whispers. He’s pretty sure that Kili can’t actually hear him but it seems to be the right thing to say. “My name’s Fili. I’m your brother and I’ll always look after you.”

**-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-**

**Day 62**

                Sweat gathers on the back of Fili’s neck as he takes another box out of the back of Kili’s Jeep. It’s only a few hours away from home but the humidity at Rivendell is about a thousand times worse, suffocating and oppressive. He hopes that summer will quickly pass because he doubts as though he can survive in the damp heat for very long. Thankfully there’s only a few more boxes to go before everything’s in the apartment.

                Kili stumbles out of the front door, scrubbing at his forehead with the back of his hand. His dark hair alternates between frizzing out from his ponytail or sticking to his sweaty neck and forehead. His shoulders slump in relief as he sees the mostly empty Jeep. “You can’t move around in the place but it’s _cool,_ ” Kili gasps, grunting as Fili shoves a box into his arms. “Since when do you have this much shit?”

                “You’ve just never moved it before,” Fili pants as he wraps his arms around a box which proves to be heavier than he originally thought. He staggers a little underneath the weight but eventually recovers enough to shove the box through the door. By now exhaustion has settled in all of his limbs and he can do little more than feebly toe the box a little further into the room. He leans against the wall, resting his cheek against the cool surface and enjoying the moment’s respite.

                Kili interrupts him with a finger gently prodded in his ribcage. “Come on. The sooner we finish the sooner we can properly inaugurate your new apartment.” Fili wrenches open heavy eyelids to look incredulously at Kili, who has the audacity to raise a questioning eyebrow.

                “You serious?” Fili rasps as his head lolls against the wall, eyes drifting up towards the ceiling. “All I want to do is get those last boxes out of the car, take a shower and collapse.”

                “You’re no fun,” Kili pouts, digging the tip of his finger further into Fili’s side.

                “Come on, help me,” Fili sighs, forcing his aching body to move away from the wall. “Sooner we get done the sooner we can get that shower.”

                “Really?” Kili leans over him, his mouth curving in a way which is almost obnoxious, save for the way that it heats his blood. “ _We’ll_ get that shower?”

                It wasn’t in Fili’s original plan but the longer Kili’s body is in contact with his, the more it starts to appeal to him. Kili’s lean body, pressed up against his, slick with soap and water, steam rising thick in the small room—

                “Would be a decent way to break in the bathroom,” Fili comments, barely restraining the giddy little smirk which threatens to overtake his face. Kili’s eyes widen before he pushes up closer and it’s only Fili’s hand flat against his chest which keeps him from pressing their bodies flush together.

                “Finish unloading first,” he says firmly, because he knows that if he gives Kili an inch, his brother will take a mile and Kili’s Jeep will remain parked in front of the house with all of its doors open, the last boxes waiting in lonely exile. It’s the right decision.  Kili dramatically rolls his eyes and sighs as he pulls away but there’s an urgency and purpose to his steps which has been missing since the first ten minutes. Fili suspects that Kili’s been deliberately stalling when it comes to moving him into his apartment, as if he can postpone the inevitable just by dragging his feet.

                With a hard shake of his head, Fili clears those thoughts from his mind, choosing instead to focus on the fact that he and Kili have the apartment to themselves for five whole days before Kili has to go back home and start his own packing. His thoughts swiftly turn sour again however, as he realizes what Kili leaving means. He won’t be there to move his brother into his dorm room, won’t be there to watch Kili get settled in, won’t be there as his mother and Thorin say goodbye and leave Kili alone—

                “You going to help me with this or you just going to be lazy?” Kili’s grumping finally manages to break him all the way out of his reverie and Fili can’t help but grin at his brother.

                “Why bother working when you’re willing to do everything?” he teases, chuckling at the manic look in Kili’s eyes. “Don’t get your panties in a twist, I’m going,” he amends, leaning over to give Kili a swift kiss high on his cheek.

                The heat still hits him with all the subtlety of a brick wall but at least now he’s prepared for the immediate attack of fatigue. With an end in sight it’s easier to make himself trudge the twenty or so yards to the Jeep and wrap his hands around the sides of a box, tugging it towards him. A thrill runs through him when he realizes that it’s the last box. His dick twitches in interest as the promised shower moves closer.

                Fili turns around, the box balanced precariously on his hip as he reaches out with his free hand to slam the back door shut. He has just enough time to notice the person in front of him before he slams into them. The shock from the impact travels through his hands and up through his arms and shoulders. He manages to keep his balance but the other person isn’t as lucky—down they go, onto the hard pavement.

                “Shit, I’m sorry,” he babbles. “Are you all right?” The box is set down on the sidewalk and instantly forgotten as Fili focuses on the other person.

                When his victim rolls over Fili finally gets a good look at him. He looks to be in his late twenties, perhaps early thirties, with curly golden brown hair that descends just past his ears. Fili can tell that he’s short, shorter than even him, and he’s wearing a carefully put together outfit which includes a pair of khakis, a button down shirt and an actual vest. Odd, but certainly not the strangest thing that Fili’s ever seen.

                The man accepts the hand offered to him and Fili’s surprised by the strength of the grip. His suspicions were correct—it’s only a few inches that he has on the man but those are a few inches that he’s missing when it comes to most people, so Fili’s thankful for what he can get. “Are you all right?” he asks again, quickly scanning for any injuries. He doesn’t see any blood, just several scuff marks on the elbows of the man’s shirt.

                “I’m fine, just a little surprised,” the man answers him, running an absent hand through his hair. After glancing around several times he turns his full attention to Fili, large brown eyes blinking at him for a few moments. “Bilbo Baggins,” he finally says, holding out his hand.

                “Fili Durin,” Fili answers, taking the other man’s hand in his. Once again he’s pleasantly surprised by the solidity of the grip, fingers grasping his hand in a hold that’s firm without being overpowering.

                “I assume that you’re moving in here?” Bilbo asks, gesturing towards Fili’s open door.

                “Yeah,” Fili answers, wiping his palms on the thighs of his shorts. He’s suddenly oddly self-conscious that his hands were clammy with sweat when they were clasping Bilbo’s. “I, ah, I’m starting classes in Rivendell in a week.”

                “Are you really?” Bilbo asks, eyebrow raising in interest. “I’m a graduate student there as well. What program are you entering in?”

                “Oh no, I’m an undergraduate,” Fili answers, heat rushing to his face that has nothing to do with the humidity outside. Somehow, admitting to Bilbo that he’s not as sophisticated as his original assumption is more embarrassing than it should be.

                “Really? Any idea what direction you’re going to take?” There’s no judgment in Bilbo’s voice and Fili’s irritated at the gratitude he feels for that fact. He just met this man, why does he even care what he thinks of him?  

                “Business,” Fili answers as he leans over to pick up the box, his shirt riding up a few inches to reveal a stretch of pale skin along his back. He would be lying if he said that he wasn’t aware of how Bilbo’s eyes track that little bit of motion and he can’t help the little bit of pride which runs in him at the acknowledgement. Even though the emotion’s tainted with the first stirrings of guilt he still has enough time to appreciate the pleasure before—

                “Who’s this?” Kili’s voice breaks into his thoughts, all sharp tones and harsh jealousy. Fili wilts even as he turns around, his eyes exerting a silent plea for Kili to play nice, don’t be a jerk, be polite—“Don’t think we’ve be introduced yet?”

                Bilbo actually flinches before he turns suddenly steely eyes towards Kili, one eyebrow raising in a way that’s eerily reminiscent of Thorin. Kili doesn’t quell underneath the look, a small muscle in his jaw twitching as he folds his arms. Fili feels trapped between the two of them. He thinks that madness is swiftly approaching but he feels helpless to stop it. “Bilbo Baggins. And you are?”

                Bilbo doesn’t hold his hand out to Kili and Kili’s eyes narrow as he notices the slight. His jaw juts forward and Fili can tell that his brother’s about ready to explode. Some sense of social self-preservation makes him quickly spit out, “Kili, my brother.” Two sets of eyes flick towards him. He can feel Kili’s furious stare boring through his body but he’ll deal with that volcanic eruption later. For the moment he watches Bilbo, the smaller man seeming to run through a myriad of emotions before his shoulders finally settle in a non-combative stance.

                “Lovely to meet you. Fili, I’m sure that I’ll be seeing you around regularly, perhaps one of these days we can grab a bite to eat. I don’t eat in the cafeteria, so you’ll have to come over.”

                “Yeah, um, all right,” Fili stammers, too amazed at Bilbo’s casual dismissal of Kili (he’s never seen anyone just skate over Kili like that, Kili _demands_ attention) to even wave goodbye. It’s not until he’s watching the retreating figure of the man that he realizes that he actually agreed to—

                “Did I just get asked out?” he asks. Unfortunately for him, he’s forgotten that Kili’s standing right beside him, glowering with rage.

                “Yeah, you fucking did,” he manages to spit out before he storms towards the apartment, his long legs covering the short distance in a matter of steps. By the time that Fili starts after him Kili’s already inside, the door slamming off of the frame and swinging open, the sound echoing down the row of townhouses. Fili sprints up the steps, almost tripping over his front stoop, before he enters the apartment, panting from the minimal exertion in the heat. He drops the box, unheeding of its contents, and scans the sitting room and kitchen. He wasn’t expecting Kili to be there but his heart still sinks a little when he confirms this.

                After gently shutting the front door he trudges up the steps. He stops and the landing and looks from the bedroom to the bathroom. The door to the bathroom is shut and a thin strip of golden light shows from underneath the door. Fili takes in a deep breath before knocking gently on the door. Nothing.

                “Kili?” He raps his knuckles on the door again, impatiently shifting his weight. “Kili, please.”

                “Go away asshole.”

                Fili sucks in a deep breath through his nostrils as he rests his forehead against the door. He wasn’t expecting Kili to be forgiving but it would have been nice. “Kili please, just talk to me.”

                “I said leave me alone!” Kili’s voice, though muffled, is still shrill and Fili winces at the undertone of pain he can hear within the words. “Better yet, why don’t you just go ahead and start your fucking date now?”

                Kili’s words are salt in the raw wounds which have opened underneath the scraping of his own guilt. Looking back, Fili can recognize the small sparks in his mind, the tiny squirming in the pit of his stomach— _Flirting,_ his mind helpfully supplies, _you were flirting with him—_ And Kili was only feet away, waiting for him to come back into the house…

                “Kili, I’m sorry,” Fili tries, a hint of desperation creeping into him. “I didn’t mean…I didn’t want… _Fuck,_ Kili, I’m sorry…”

                “Go away!” This time there’s no way that Kili’s voice could be mistaken for anything else other than hurt. Remorse rakes through Fili’s body, the added burden making him clench his fists in self-inflicted punishment. He relishes the pain of his fingernails digging into the skin of his palms. It feels like it’s at least something he can do that isn’t fucking up.

                “Kili, please,” Fili begs once more. “I didn’t…” The door opens and without its support Fili tumbles forward. He’s barely able to stop from tripping face-first into Kili. He recovers swiftly and pulls himself upright to face Kili. He has to crane his neck in order to meet Kili’s eyes and he curses his little brother for growing to be taller than him.

                “Fuck Fili, do you just want to call it off? Just…” Kili’s face twists in agony and Fili’s own innards mimic his expression, pain wrenching at his chest and stomach. “Just make it a summer thing? We’re in college now so we shouldn’t be expected to hold out for a long distance relationship?”

                “Fuck _no,”_ Fili breathes, reaching out for Kili. His hand is batted away hard, but he keeps on pushing, ignoring Kili’s attempts to shove him away. “No Kili, _no,_ why the fuck would you even think that…”

                Kili’s hands push at him, fingers scratching at the back of his hands as Fili finally latches on to his brother’s thin wrists. The deep brown eyes shine with tears that threaten to spill over but never quite make it. He looks so lost, so helpless, as though he actually believes that Fili would want that—

                “Fuck Kili,” Fili breathes out and unheeding of Kili’s wishes he pulls him forward, needing the sweet comfort of Kili’s body against his, needing to push his nose into the stubble underneath Kili’s jaw and smell the mingling of soap and sweat on his skin. Kili curses at him, pushing at his shoulders but Fili ignores his protests as his arms wrap around Kili’s chest.

                “Not letting you go,” Fili vows, tilting his head up so that his lips move against Kili’s ear. “Don’t care what you say, not letting you go.”

                Kili’s body sags against his and Fili’s arms immediately tighten around the lean body. He faintly registers the dull thunk of Kili’s head against his shoulder, his brother’s face pressing into the crook of his neck. Fili breathes a sigh of relief when Kili’s arms circle his waist, squeezing tightly enough to make his breathing catch.

                “I just don’t know what I’m going to do without you,” Kili confesses into his skin. “I don’t…What am I going to do when I don’t see you every day?”

                “We’ll be all right,” Fili answers. His stomach lurches uncomfortably as, for the first time, he honestly allows himself to think about what it will be like, coming home with the knowledge that he won’t see Kili that day, won’t have the promise of his embrace to fall into after a terrible day, won’t be able to share dinner with him and watch horrible reality TV, won’t be able to use his shoulder as a pillow when he inevitably falls asleep on the couch… “We’ll be fine,” Fili repeats, wishing that he could make the words into truth. “We’ll text and talk and Skype—we have breaks and several weekends—“

                “Not the same,” Kili gasps, and Fili can feel the drag of his fingernails through his sweat-dampened shirt. “I don’t… _fuck,”_ Kili finishes, and though it’s not the most eloquent phrase his brother’s ever said, Fili finds that he agrees with the barely audible curse. “How the fuck am I supposed to get through the day without you?”

                “We’ll be fine.” Words tumble out his mouth as he feels Kili’s body start to shake. “Kili I promise we’ll be fine, we’ll visit each other as often as we can during the weekends, I’ll Skype you every day, we’ll get through this I promise…”

                “I know,” Kili whimpers, the sound defeated and miserable. “I just…I miss you already and I don’t know if you’re going to find someone that you like more than me…”

                “Shut up,” Fili says, and his arms jerk sharply at Kili. “You’re an idiot.”

                Kili laughs shakily as his hands slip underneath Fili’s shirt to stroke over the skin on his lower back. The touch is soft without being teasing, the contact meant to soothe instead of arouse. “I love you,” Kili whispers into his hair, pushing his face closer like if he just tries hard enough he can crawl inside Fili. “I love you, I love you…”

                Fili tightens his arms as Kili repeats the three words until they all blur together, becoming a slur of sound which means nothing.

 -_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

 

**Day 572**

                Fili is willing to admit that he is _drunk._ The wine and beer create a delicious floating, humming feel in his head and if it wouldn’t make him look stupid, he would let his body follow the drifting, abstract patterns that he can almost see in his mind. Bilbo might be wrong about some things (no matter what he says, Fili’s _never_ going to a yoga class, he doesn’t care how relaxed Bilbo feels afterwards) but he does have impeccable taste when it comes to alcohol.

                He laughs as he collapses on Bilbo’s couch, the overplush fabric easily engulfing his body. All of Bilbo’s furniture seems designed to swallow him up and he likes that, likes that he can roll around and rest his cheek on the back of the couch as he grins at Bilbo. He gets a disbelieving little chuckle in return as Bilbo, who is perched on the end of the couch and looking entirely too sober, takes a demure sip out of his wine glass.

                “How’re you feeling?” he asks, one eyebrow raising in a gentle, playful mockery.

                “’M good,” Fili slurs, drawing out the vowels in the last word. And he _is_ feeling good, feet kicked up on Bilbo’s coffee table, ignoring the prissy look he gets for it. For once he feels _normal,_ doing nothing more than enjoying several drinks with a friend, no worries about fights or missed calls, no lingering cloud creating a shadow on an otherwise enjoyable time. It feels as though a weight’s been lifted off his shoulders and while he might miss the pleasant strength which was a result of the weight, he certainly doesn’t miss the ache and burn which it left.

                Almost two and a half months have passed since he and Kili broke up. Two and a half months of curling into a small ball and shaking in the early hours of the morning, when all he wanted was long arms around him and dark hair in his mouth. The lingering nostalgia always stays with him, worse on some days than others. Some days he finds himself laughing and still his first instinct is to reach for his phone to text Kili, or to try to commit the moment to memory, with the thought of _Kili would love that…_ Those days have been occurring less as the weeks pass and bleed into each other. Fili’s not sure when the weight on his chest became less, when Kili stopped being the first thought in his brain in the morning and his last concern at night. All he knows is that he’s slowly remembering how to be happy.

                Fili snorts in laughter at a joke that no one but himself hears and takes another drink out of his beer. The carbonation stretches his chest and the taste lingers heavy in his mouth, mixing with the sour texture of cigarettes on his tongue. He already knows that his headache is going to be momentous tomorrow morning but he can’t bring himself to care, not with Bilbo’s sudden smile directed at him.

                “Haven’t seen you in this good of a mood in quite some time,” the smaller man comments, shifting his weight so that he’s settled more comfortably on the couch. “It’s nice.”

                “Yeah it is,” Fili agrees. A small, goofy smile is plastered onto his face and even if he could remove it, Fili’s not sure that he would want to. His facial muscles feel the strain after months of stagnation but the burn in his cheeks is worth it, to have his teeth feel the air again.

                “Would it be too nosy to ask what changed?” Bilbo asks. He shifts again, tucking one foot underneath his body. He fidgets more than any other person that Fili’s met but he supposes that everyone has their own quirks.

                “Nothing much,” Fili yawns, as he burrows deeper into the couch. He reaches over and gently shoves Bilbo with two of his fingers, feeling the tension mounting in the room. He might be drunk but he can still recognize a bad idea when he sees it. Underneath the forgiving cloud of alcohol it seems only natural to tell Bilbo everything that went on between him and Kili, to unburden his mind and heart of the heavy weights still attached—Bilbo ruefully smiles, shakes his head and takes another sedate sip from his glass and the urge vanishes as swiftly as it arose.

                The more Fili drinks the less he registers the taste of the beer. Finally, there’s just the giddy, swimming feeling of his mind, combined with the tight fullness of carbonation in his stomach. Somehow in the time between finishing his bottle and setting the empty glass on the floor Fili finds himself sprawled out on the couch, the top of his head resting against the side of Bilbo’s thigh. He stupidly grins at his friend, unconcerned about the upside view of the world.

                Bilbo shakes his head, chuckling softly as he hides his face behind his glass. “You’re drunk,” he reminds Fili gently. His free hand twitches and shifts nervously on the thigh next to Fili’s head, stirring a few stray blond hairs. “You should probably go home.”

                There’s no cruelty or pettiness in Bilbo’s words and his friend has nothing other than his well-being in mind, but Fili still feels the sting of rejection. Without his permission his face twists, broadcasting his sudden hurt. Quickly he tries to smooth the wrinkles out of his forehead, the downward curve of his lips, but it’s too late. Bilbo’s already seen.

                “Oh stop.” Bilbo’s words are meant to be a scold but his voice remains gentle. His shifting, nervous hand finally finds a place to rest on Fili’s forehead, thumb stroking over his eyebrow. Fili hums underneath the weight of the hand, his eyes drifting shut. A faint voice in the back of his mind says that it would be rude to fall asleep on Bilbo’s couch but he’s so comfortable…It’s safe, Bilbo’s fingers shifting to card through his hairline. He’s forgotten how good the touch of another can feel, how comfort seeps through gentle fingers on his skin.

                “Oh Fili,” Bilbo sighs. “Fili, Fili, Fili.” His voice sounds heavy and regretful and Fili manages to drag his eyelids open just enough to squint at Bilbo’s head. His alcohol laden brain can’t quite process the mysterious workings of Bilbo’s face as it appears, so he cranes his neck to the side for a better view.

                The fondness in the light brown eyes is easy enough to read, fueled as it is by the small smile curving Bilbo’s lips. The sadness in his eyes is harder for Fili to understand. He reaches up, intending to shake Bilbo, perhaps remove the melancholy from his eyes, but he only ends up with his fingers colliding painfully with the soft flesh of Bilbo’s shoulder.

                The small man hisses in discomfort, dispelling the look which caused Fili such confusion. Instead now when he gazes down at Fili there’s just an exasperated fondness to his smile—but it seems empty somehow, not actually real. Despite the discomfort of the position, Fili keeps his hand on Bilbo’s shoulders, fingers tugging at the thin material of Bilbo’s button-down shirt. Their eyes lock and stay connected, even though the hand on his forehead stutters a little in its motions and Bilbo’s throat jumps with a hard swallow.

                “Need my help getting back home?” Bilbo asks. A delicate cough and another changing of position follow his question. Fili wonders if Bilbo knows that the tips of his ears turn bright red whenever he’s flustered. Bilbo’s suggestion that he leave hangs in the air but neither one of them moves, save for Bilbo’s continued petting of his forehead and Fili’s shifting grip on Bilbo’s shoulder.

                “Fili, I…” Bilbo begins but by now Fili’s had time enough to make his decision. It’s not the best one that he’s ever made and if he were completely sober then he would think twice about following through with it but right now, nothing in the world makes more sense to him than clumsily shifting so that he’s upright on the couch before smashing his lips into Bilbo’s.

                The contact is beyond awkward, his teeth pressing hard into the soft underside of his lips, his weight precariously balanced on the over-plush couch and the tip of his nose shoved into Bilbo’s cheek. Bilbo’s only response is a small squeak before he freezes. Despite Fili’s best efforts, Bilbo’s lips and body remain immobile underneath his fumbling attentions.

                With a sense of sinking disappointment, Fili jerks away. When he catches Bilbo’s stunned look ugly regret flares up inside him. “I’m sorry,” Fili apologizes, his hand patting Bilbo’s forearm in useless, frantic reassurance. “I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry…”

                “I know you didn’t mean to,” Bilbo answers. The soft hand on the side of Fili’s face causes him to meet the patient, wise eyes. Bilbo means to look kindly and he does, but the sadness still lingers in the green depths, which only makes Fili feel worse. “It’s fine Fili, it’s all right.”

                “No it’s not,” Fili slurs, because even though his brain isn’t working at the rate that it should, he still feels as though one of them is missing something important. Bilbo looked sad before he kissed him and even now, he still looks sad. Fili wanted to kiss Bilbo, wanted to keep the safe, warm feeling alive but now it feels like all the air’s been leaked out of the room and instead replaced with heavy, awkwardness that presses both of them down to the point where they can’t even look at each other. “I…I want…”

                It’s not his intention but Bilbo has a way of making Fili feel like little more than a stumbling idiot. It happens now, with Bilbo looking patient and understanding while Fili stammers and his words become clogged in his mouth. He doesn’t know what to say to convince Bilbo that this is _good,_ that he _wants_ this, that after the months of loneliness and twisting in cold sheets he’s finally found something warm again, something which makes him _happy_ …He closes his eyes in frustration as he mercilessly chews the inner flesh of his lips.

                A soft brush on his lips has Fili’s eyes flying open to look cross-eyed down his nose at Bilbo. The older man has a look of resigned serenity on his face, his eyes closed and mouth moving gently over Fili’s own. Fili’s mouth falls open from shock but Bilbo doesn’t take the inadvertent invitation—he simply catches Fili’s lower lip between his teeth, putting just the slightest bit of pressure on the flesh.  Fili craves more.

                All too soon Bilbo pulls away, fully separating himself from Fili’s lips, even though Fili tries to follow him with a sad whine of loss. A hand on his wrist stops him and he meets Bilbo’s eyes. The wry little grin which Fili will eternally associate with Bilbo plays at the corner of his friend’s mouth but it doesn’t reach the small wrinkles surrounding the soft mocha orbs. “I’m sorry, it just appears as though I’m as susceptible to temptation as everyone else.”

                For a moment Fili’s brain fails to work. Then his mental faculties come crashing back into him with the subtlety of a runaway train. _“Good,”_ he breathes. He’s light-headed from sudden relief, his heart racing in the confines of his chest. Atrophied muscles stretch wide in a grin as he reaches forward and brings Bilbo’s face to his.

                And this time, when their lips messily collide in a clash that’s all the sweeter for its imperfections, Bilbo’s laugh reverberates through Fili’s body.

 

 

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -hides underneath a rock-


	10. When You're too in Love to Let it Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a new twist on some old problems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY GOD I'M NOT DEAD. SURPRISE.
> 
> Again, I apologize for the hugely long wait between chapters--at this point I can do really quick, substandard (at least to me) updates or long, decent updates and I went for decent. 
> 
> But yes, have a chapter, whooo.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

 

 

**Day 39**

“Does it hurt?”

                The surprised huff beside him lets Kili know that he’s awakened Fili from his almost dozing state. His brother had been skimming through one of his summer reading books when he dropped off and the book still rests on his chest, rising and falling with each of Fili’s breaths. Kili had been content to remain sprawled out on Fili’s bed, watching the steady rise and fall of Fili’s chest and noting that Fili’s mouth hangs slack during sleep—at least until he’d finally gotten up enough of his courage to blurt out the question that he’s been wondering about for weeks now. Fili scrubs at his eyes, still caught in his drowsy state. At his brother’s wide yawn Kili feels a little guilty but comforts himself with the thought that it’s late on a Saturday evening and Fili doesn’t have to be at work tomorrow morning.

                “Does what hurt?” Fili finally asks, in the low, gravelly tone that he only gets when he first awakens. It sends a pleasant little shiver through Kili’s body and the feeling continues when Fili absent-mindedly runs a finger down his bare back. Kili can’t help but arch into the touch and grumbles when Fili takes his hand away. “Does what hurt?” Fili asks again, a sharper bite in his words.

                “Sex,” Kili finally answers, turning his head so that he can comfortably look at Fili. It takes a moment for the word to register but he can see the moment that it does, Fili’s eyebrows wrinkling in confusion.

                “Has it hurt you before? I don’t…what?” Fili looks utterly lost and underneath the puzzlement Kili can see the beginnings of concern. “What’s going on?”

                “Stop worrying,” Kili sighs, giving Fili’s leg a good shove with his foot. “Nothing’s hurt yet.” Kili rolls his eyes at Fili’s quiet cry of _What do you mean yet?_ and continues. “It just seems like it’s an awfully small hole and you’re not ah…” He sends a significant look towards Fili’s crotch. “Seems like it would be a little painful to fit in there, you know?”

                He’s spent the past few days really considering the logistics of sex with Fili. He’s had it as the subject of many of his fantasies but now that it’s probably going to happen he has to consider exactly _how_ this is all going to occur. Kili’s more than a little nervous—he’s had his hands and mouth on Fili and he’s poked around his own entrance a few times in the shower and it doesn’t seem like the two are mutually compatible. So, it’s back to his fail-safe method of solving problems—asking his big brother for advice. It’s just awkward in this case because big brother is also the starring partner in his most X-rated daydreams.

                “You stretch it first,” Fili finally says, but the concerned furrow of his brow doesn’t fade away. “It, it’s a muscle. It, um, it stretches.”

                “You said that already,” Kili comments, the corners of his lips turning down in an unsatisfied frown. He’s figured out that asses can expand from watching porn—though he really doesn’t see how some of the cocks in the films can actually _fit_ in those little dime-sized holes. What he’s interested in is the _how_ —copious amounts of lube must be involved, he’s not stupid, but he was actually hoping for more of a hands-on demonstration. “Never mind,” Kili sighs, burrowing his head into the furrow of his arms.

                He gives a low, warning growl when Fili’s hand shakes his shoulder but his brother doesn’t stop. Kili jerks his head up and glares at his brother through the narrowed slits of his eyes. “What?” he snaps, and normally that would be enough to have Fili backing away but not this time.

                “Why are you thinking about this?” Fili asks, and sometimes Kili just has to roll his eyes at how incredibly stupid his brother is.

                “Because we’re doing the whole stairstep thing and next is probably sex,” Kili observes as he rolls onto his side, eyes flicking down Fili’s bare torso. “We’ve jerked each other off, blown each other, so next we’re probably going to have sex. It’s what happens,” he explains, cutting Fili’s question off before it has a chance to form.

                “You think that’s all that there is?” Fili asks, an eyebrow quirking upwards and suddenly Kili feels out of his element, even as a slow flame ignites in the pit of his belly. “Jerking, blowing, and screwing?”

                “Isn’t it?” Kili asks, heat blossoming all over his body as Fili leans closer to him. It’s a little too passive, how he rolls over onto his back but it’s worth it to see the hunger in Fili’s eyes as the light blue orbs devour him.

                “I pity anyone that’s slept with you,” Fili murmurs, thumbing over his lower lip. “Such a lack of imagination.”

                “Hey, they never complain—“ Kili’s protest is cut short by Fili’s mouth descending on his, his brother’s tongue easily slipping past his lips. He kisses back, sheer spite making him nip at Fili’s lips and pin his tongue down. His pride still smarts at Fili’s comment and a small burble of rebellious resentment floats through him as he contemplates that he hasn’t heard any complaints from any of his partners, Fili included. Still, Fili’s hands feel amazing as they roam over his torso, skimming down to his waist and thumbing over the elastic band of his boxers. As long as Fili keeps touching him with sure, capable hands, Kili thinks that he’ll probably be able to forgive him.

                “Fili,” Kili gasps out as Fili’s lips stir the dark hair just underneath his navel. Fili’s eyes flick up towards him and panic begins to stir in the pit of Kili’s stomach. Fili’s eyes are preoccupied and a faint frown curves his lips. Kili knows that look, has had to become intimately acquainted with the consequences of that expression—Fili’s busy feeling guilty and starting to reconsider, like he always does whenever he takes the initiative to do _anything._ Sometimes, even a kiss will send Fili running away from him.

                “Fili, please,” Kili moans, reaching down to run his fingers over the top of Fili’s head. “Please…” He wants Fili to keep touching him, it feels absolutely _amazing,_ but more than anything he wants to be able to erase the shame from Fili’s face. Sometimes, the knowledge that Fili thinks that he somehow _ruined_ Kili, that he did something foul to him, actually makes Kili physically ill, his stomach rolling and cramping as he thinks back on the haunted shadow in Fili’s eyes. He just wants Fili to be happy, doesn’t understand why Fili carries the world on his shoulders, why he blames himself for circumstances over which he has no control—Kili wants to be able to kiss Fili and have nothing between them but the bright giddiness which he’s always heard makes up love.

                “Roll over,” Fili murmurs, his thumbs running over the small bumps of Kili’s pelvis. Kili raises a curious eyebrow at the request but the tortured twist to Fili’s features is gone, so he does as his brother asks. He hisses in appreciation as his cock rubs against the firm surface of the mattress and he can’t stop from rutting down, savoring the bright pleasure which shoots through his body.

                “Can you um…” Kili glances over his shoulder to see Fili nervously running his teeth over his lower lip. “It’ll be easier if you’re on your knees.”

                “All right,” Kili agrees, his mouth suddenly dry with anticipation. Maneuvering to his knees is easy and Kili savors the shiver which runs down his spine. He’s never felt this vulnerable before, his cock hard and aching between his legs, knees and elbows pressing into the mattress as his hair hangs down in front of his face, obscuring his view of most of the room.

                It comes as a surprise when Fili’s thumbs hook underneath the waistband of his boxers and Kili hisses in a sharp breath as his erection is exposed to the cool air of the room. He barely registers Fili sliding the fabric down his thighs until Fili taps at his knee. Heeding the unspoken command Kili lifts his legs, one after the other, allowing Fili to slide his undergarment off and away from him. His heart beats swiftly in the hollow of his chest and he can’t stop the soft hitching of his breath as he wonders what Fili has planned.

                Having any sort of physical contact with Fili is…The only word which comes to Kili’s mind is _electrifying,_ cliché and maudlin as it might sound. Anything, from their fingers brushing each other at the dinner table to their lips locked together late at night, to Fili’s mouth around his prick—it all has Kili’s skin practically vibrating with sensation, his nerves lighting forest fires through his body.

                He can feel the heat radiating from Fili’s body as his brother comes closer and the bed dips down to accommodate the added weight. As his fingers clench, Kili can’t help but think how _exposed_ he is, how Fili can see every inch of him. It sends a strange thrill through him as the urge to cover himself wars with the desire to spread himself wider, give Fili more to look at. In the end, Kili stays motionless, even when Fili leans over him and presses kisses to the small juts of his spine.

                “What are you…?” Kili finally asks, his voice much softer than he had anticipated. Fili pauses and lifts his head away from the subtle curve of Kili’s waist, the point of his chin brushing the skin as he lays his head on Kili’s back. From this position Kili can feel the very tip of Fili’s cock against his thigh, its presence a stark reminder of the ultimate goal.

                “Just trust me?” Fili finally says, his breath washing warm over Kili’s skin and making the tiny hairs stand at attention. His hand strokes down Kili’s side in long, soothing motions, his thumb rubbing at just the top of Kili’s asscheek.

                “All right,” Kili says, when he realizes that Fili probably can’t see the tiny jerks of his head. He’s not sure yet what he’s agreed to, but any sort of continuation is good, Fili’s flesh against his a delicious tease. He feels like his body is uncharted territory and he wants Fili to discover every crack and crevice, to map the lines of veins which run just underneath his skin, to memorize the topography of his back and legs, to roam the planes of his chest with his lips and tongue. Fili’s lips drift over the small of his back as his fingertips dance down the swell of his ass and an unbidden whine rises in Kili’s throat.

                Strange, how his ass has been touched and groped and even kissed a few times, yet Fili’s touch makes the skin covering the muscle forget all previous encounters, leaving nothing but the memory of his brother’s fingers tracing nonsensical patterns into his flesh. “Please,” Kili grits out, keeping his voice low as he fights back a helpless sob. “Fili, please…”

                When Fili’s fingers dip inside the crease of his cheeks Kili can’t keep himself from flinching—he had thought that it was coming but how was he supposed to prepare himself for that, for having his most private part exposed? Almost immediately he can sense Fili getting ready to pull back, to stop, convinced that his small jerk means that Kili doesn’t want this anymore, when nothing could be further from the truth… “Don’t stop,” Kili gasps, turning his head to look at Fili. He can barely make out Fili’s face through the thick curtain of dark hair but he makes certain that his voice holds nothing but determined conviction. “God Fili…”

                “Yeah,” Fili finally agrees, and the deep roughness of his voice is enough to have Kili biting his lip to stifle a soft whimper. Sometimes, in the darkness of his room during the early morning hours, he’d lie on his bed, prick in hand, and imagine what Fili sounded like during sex—if his brother’s voice deepened or if he was loud when he came. He’d listen to his own muffled pants and stifled moans and get himself off by pretending that it was Fili’s voice by his ear, Fili’s long groan as he finally stilled his hand. Now that he knows what Fili sounds like when he comes, Kili will readily admit that the reality easily tops his fantasies.

                Kili’s not sure what to expect but he makes a frenzied promise to himself that no matter what happens, he won’t budge, won’t let even a shiver betray him. Of course, he made that promise before he felt Fili’s tongue sweeping a broad line between his cheeks, coming perilously close to his tightly clenched entrance.

                _“Fili!”_ he chokes out, fingers grabbing at the comforter as his whole body stiffens. He looks back over his shoulder to meet Fili’s eyes. “That’s, that’s…”

                “You want me to stop?”

                Kili swallows, the choice laid neatly out before him, except it’s not a choice, not really. He could tell Fili that he’s uncomfortable and Fili would immediately stop. Kili feels the certainty of that deep in his bones. What he lacks is the same certainty that Fili would eventually return. His brother is so skittish, one foot already out the door—all it would take is a small push and Fili would sprint away from him entirely. Besides, Kili rationalizes, as he eases back down onto his elbows, breathing deep and consciously trying to relax tensed muscles, it’s not as though he’s being tortured. For the brief moment that Fili’s tongue was on him, before he realized exactly what his brother was doing, it actually felt pretty good. He knows that Fili has a talented mouth—he’s _never_ come so hard from a blowjob before—what could be the harm in allowing his brother to do what he wants?

                “Don’t you dare stop.” It’s not a struggle to keep his voice steady, not when he’s already made the decision. What’s harder is the waiting, world precariously tilting while he holds his breath to see what Fili will do. He can feel the release of tension as Fili sighs and his touch returns, gingerly sweeping from the small of his back to his upper thighs.

                “If you don’t want to…” Fili begins, only to be interrupted by Kili’s soft growl.

                “If you don’t then I’m not going to get you off for a week.” Kili knows that his threat is only a bluff—he’s hardly able to keep his hands off of Fili when Thorin and his mother are present. Not touching Fili for a week, not feeling his warm release spread over his fingers or taste the bitter saltiness on his tongue…Kili’s never been good at denying himself. Still, he must at look at least somewhat credible because Fili dips his head back down, the tip of his tongue flicking at the very beginning of his crack.

                Now that he’s prepared for the sensation, Kili can better appreciate how _different_ it is, warm, wriggling wetness where he’s never been touched before. Fili’s tongue moves around his skin, hot and teasing as his brother deliberately avoids the pursed muscle of his entrance. Perhaps Fili is magical, Kili wildly thinks as his breathing quickens, because the elder’s tongue manages to leave nothing but blazing desire in his wake. Nothing anyone has ever done to him, nothing that he’s done to _himself_ has ever made him feel like this, molten flowers blooming in the pit of his stomach.  

                The room is quiet, save for the sound of Kili’s harsh, quick pants and the occasional wet sound of Fili’s tongue moving against his flesh. Kili’s body relaxes, his back arching as he attempts to push back into Fili. He knows that he’s opening, coming undone like a frayed piece of rope and he doesn’t care, not when there’s only the promise of more. Fili’s tongue skirts around his hole and Kili sobs out a small plea, “ _Please….”_

It feels stranger than anything yet, warmth and cold clashing on his skin as the air hits the area vacated by Fili’s tongue. Fili keeps his touch light, hardly any pressure on him and though Kili appreciated it at first, he soon realizes that it’s not _enough._

                “More,” he manages, eyes tightly closed as he desperately gulps in air. “Fili, I, I need more…”

                Fili moans against his skin and the sound, combined with the increased pressure of the tongue tracing around the edges of his entrance has a bead of pre-come welling up at the slit of Kili’s cock. If he’d known that this was what it felt like, then Kili would have urged Fili to tongue his ass long ago. The tip of Fili’s tongue nudges at the center of his hole and the noise which escapes from the pit of Kili’s stomach is much higher than he would like. Fili doesn’t pull back to mock him, just grips his hips with almost bruising force.  

                The first push of Fili’s tongue inside him is excruciatingly slow. Kili feels everything, each molecule of his skin alight with sensation. He’s never been so in tune with every speck of his body but he still feels as though he’s floating above himself, watching these events happen to someone else. He knows what’s happening, feels each millimeter of his skin as it presses against Fili’s tongue but…If it had hurt then perhaps he would focus more on the individual stimulation but for the moment all he knows is the pleasure which shudders through his body, his toes curling and cock dribbling further onto the comforter. Fili’s assurances make more sense now, with the blond’s tongue buried in his ass and Kili only gasping for more, more, _more…_

The warm muscle of Fili’s tongue is stiff inside the increasingly pliant rim of the brunet’s entrance. A gentle tug on the inside edge of the younger’s opening has Kili’s eyes rolling back in his head as a high whine escapes his mouth. His whole body alights with pleasure, tiny flames searing through his nerves. He’s already so close, rushed to his release by the unfamiliar sensations and the sheer filthiness of it all—this is Fili, his perfect, poised brother, with his fucking _tongue_ in his fucking _ass_ , and Kili loves it, loves that for once Fili has all his attention focused solely on him, that his hands are holding him still and steady instead of pushing him away. He wants to freeze this moment, keep things like this always, both of them here, pressed together…Kili swears that his heart is beating in time to Fili’s, that he’s never been closer to Fili, not even when they’re lying with their chests pressed together and mouths connected. He _feels_ Fili—not just his brother’s mouth, but he feels Fili’s lust, Fili’s determination, the caring, cockiness, intelligence, and the love…

                Kili chokes out a protest which sounds like encouragement when Fili’s hand sneaks around his hip to grip his cock. It doesn’t take long before Kili’s wavering on the brink of orgasm, Fili’s tongue inside him, swirling in his ass, and _holy shit there’s a tongue in his ass_ , and Fili’s thumb flicks over the his slit, just rough enough to have Kili choking on a shout as he tries to hold back his climax because he doesn’t want to come just yet. This is all so good, so precious, this is how he thought being with Fili would be like, all the time—the two of them working in tandem, knowing each other better than they knew each other, not the awkward tension which seems to eternally lie between them. But then Fili’s pulling away, tongue slipping out of him and Kili whimpers in disappointment just before Fili rests his cheek alongside his hip, stubble harsh against the soft skin.

                “Come on, come for me gorgeous,” Fili murmurs, just as he twists his wrist and Kili has to bite his knuckle when he comes, his scream muffled by the flesh between his teeth. His body bucks without his permission, prick thrusting into the tight grip of Fili’s hand as his climax rolls over him in waves which eventually drag him back to shore, where he lays, limp and boneless, limbs askew on the bed.

                Fili’s hands are in his hair, large fingers carding through the black locks. The fine strands catch on the tackiness of drying sweat remaining on Fili’s digits and it creates a gentle pull and burn that Kili relishes. It keeps the tingle in his skin alive, continues the little hum of remembered bliss until Kili’s so light-headed with pleasure that he thinks he might just float away.

                “Gonna do that to you,” Kili promises in a sleepy mumble. “Gonna make you scream…” His jaw cracks as he yawns wide. He glances over at Fili, hand already reaching towards the blonde’s erection, only to find Fili’s soft prick nestled against the dark golden hairs at his groin.

                “I couldn’t wait,” Fili apologizes with a regretful look. “You were um…couldn’t wait.”

                Kili hums softly in acknowledgement as he stretches out his hand towards his brother, still wanting the reassurance which comes only from touch. His fingers trace the edges of Fili’s kneecap, down the line of his shin and Fili relaxes underneath the gesture. As Fili sighs and rolls towards him Kili lets the tension bleed out of his body, bit by bit as he forces his mind to relax. He’s always preparing for potential problems or any combination of events which will send Fili into a downward spiral of doubt and guilt and sometimes it’s a struggle just to _be_. Perhaps in time he won’t need to keep half an ear and eye on Fili at all times, he’ll be able to relax without worrying that if he does so then he’ll run the risk of losing Fili.

                Kili yawns again, the force of gesture making his jaw crack. He noses against Fili’s side, hating the fact that Fili’s already setting the alarm on his phone, making sure that they wake up before their mother arrives home for the evening. He forces the unpleasant feeling to the back of his mind and concentrates instead on the almost vanished smell of Fili’s deodorant, how the soft hairs on his brother’s chest feel against his cheek.

                _Wish we could stay like this, just like this,_ Kili thinks, and it’s not until he hears Fili’s agreement that he realizes that he’s spoken the words aloud.

 

 

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

 

  **Day –349**

At first Kili wasn’t going to attend Zayne’s party. He wasn’t particularly close with Zayne, or his group of friends and he wasn’t sure that any of his actual friends were going either. Also, he’d heard the rumors that the cops were called on Zayne’s last party and the last thing he needs is having Thorin called to pick him up from the police station again. No, he decides, after thinking for a moment, it would probably be in his best interests just to stay home that evening.

                His split-second reversal and decision to attend has nothing to do with the tall idiot that his brother brings home one night.

                Their mother’s gone on a weeklong business trip, otherwise Fili wouldn’t dare. But while Dis is gone, he remains the authority in the house so, Kili reflects bitterly, he can do whatever he wants. Never mind that if Kili had brought someone home then Fili would have deafened the entire neighborhood with his screams. Not that it’s a problem, because the only person he wants to bring home inconveniently already lives in his house.

                Kili’s not expecting to see a stranger when he blearily stumbles into the kitchen early Saturday morning. Surprise swiftly disappears to be replaced by instant hatred. From his bedroom tousled hair to his casual bare feet, Kili loathes him. The Asshole, as he’s instantly named in Kili’s brain, actually has the temerity to smile at him.

                “Hey…Kili, right?” The smile fades in its brightness when Kili doesn’t answer and just stares at him. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this angry before, had this much concentrated rage swirling in his veins. The feeling is so intense as to be painful, sharp jolts of discomfort shooting through his body as he glares at the intruder.

                No matter how much he wishes it didn’t, the sound of his brother coming down the stairs makes Kili’s heart stutter a little in his chest. “Didn’t expect you up so early,” Fili says easily, his bare shoulder jostling Kili as he shoves past him and stands behind the stranger. The pain returns, this time concentrated in his chest as he watches Fili, dressed only in plaid pajama pants, idly run his fingers over the crook of The Asshole’s elbow. “You manage to find everything all right?” Fili turns his attention over to the stranger and Kili stands forgotten.

                “Go back to bed, I’m supposed to be surprising you.” The two of them are sickening. Kili’s stomach twinges in pain as he watches Fili lean into the taller brunet, the other man’s head inclining down to rest atop Fili’s. “Making omelets,” Asshole explains, chin rubbing against the top of Fili’s head. Asshole turns to Kili, suddenly remembering that he exists. “There’s probably enough left over to make one for you if you want?”

                “Rather eat my own piss,” Kili grits out, turning on his heel and pounding up the stairs. He can hear Fili’s bellow following him but the slamming of his door creates a slight buffer of silence. Kili violently throws himself onto his bed and buries his face in his pillow.

                He wishes that he could stop, wishes that he would meet someone, anyone, who could chase away thoughts of Fili. He’d fought against it as hard as he could, thrown himself at anything that would have him, locked himself in his room and clawed at his own hair until long dark strands were hanging from his fingers. Nothing worked. The next time that he’d seen Fili his stomach had still lurched and his heart had done a happy little skip when Fili had smiled at him.

                He already knows that he can’t ever talk to anyone about this. If it were something, _anything_ else he would talk to Fili but now he feels guilty even looking at his brother. How is he supposed to live with himself when he can’t even meet Fili’s eyes? He’s never been attracted to another guy before and now he’s popping boners when he sees Fili, with nothing more than a towel knotted around his hips, exiting the bathroom.

                He’d thought that he’d finally found a way to cope—he’d just swallow it all, every illicit craving and accept the knowledge that he was never going to have what he wanted. Once he’d done that, his life had become marginally easier—his eyes would still linger on Fili but he would take what affection he was given instead of hoping in vain for more. It had worked—at least until he’d gone downstairs and seen a bare-chested stranger in his kitchen. It was fine when no one had Fili. But when someone else other than him had Fili…Kili’s chest clenches in rage and pain.

                He’s not certain how much time passes before his door opens. Irritation spikes in Kili that his brother didn’t even bother to knock but Fili has a tendency of barging in when he’s upset. A thousand sharp remarks fly to Kili’s head but he bites his lower lip in order to keep himself silent. Fili’s already angry and he’s in no state to fight with him. With the mood he’s in, he would most likely end up saying something he would regret.

                Fili has no such problem. Kili can practically feel the rage radiating off his brother’s body as the blond stands over his bed. “The hell is wrong with you?” Fili demands, his normally calm voice gone a shade higher with emotion.

                “Fuck off,” Kili mumbles into his pillow, raising his middle finger towards Fili in case the elder’s missed the point. He’s unprepared for his pillow to be snatched out from underneath him and his face awkwardly collides with his mattress. With an indignant shout Kili pushes himself upright and glares at Fili. “The fuck is your problem?” he asks, his own voice rising.

                “I’d ask the same thing about you,” Fili replies. “The fuck was your problem down there?”

                “Sorry that I was mean to your boyfriend.” Kili’s not sorry, not in the slightest, but the pithy remark achieves its intended purpose—Fili growls low in his throat and rolls his eyes.

                “He’s just a friend, not my boyfriend.”

                That makes it even worse from Kili’s point of view. That Fili could smile like that at someone who wasn’t his boyfriend…that Fili didn’t look that way towards _him…_ There’s usually plenty of affection in Fili’s eyes when he looks at Kili but it’s never had that deeper, mysterious layer to it which appeared so easily when Fili sidled up to Asshole. “All right then, sorry I was mean to your fuck-buddy. Want me to go kiss it and make it better?”

                Fili’s fists convulsively clench at his words and a small muscle in his jaw twitches. Kili is treading on thin ice, recklessly stomping and jumping on treacherous ground. As the years have passed Fili’s patience has increased but Kili can still remember a time when any sort of insult heaved towards Fili would result in him being pinned in one of Fili’s juijitsu moves, his arm twisted around his back until he screamed.

                “Am I not allowed to have a friend?” Fili finally asks and his voice, even and low, is a clear warning which Kili ignores as he crashes further into peril.

                “I have lots of friends,” Kili replies, schooling his face so that it turns into a grotesque mockery of a smile. “Don’t fuck them though.”

                This time Fili’s arm actually twitches, as though he moved to strike him and restrained himself at the last moment. “Shut the fuck up. You don’t get to say shit about my life, you little fucking brat.” Fili’s furious now, his voice shaking with barely repressed rage but Kili presses on, the image of Fili’s pleased smile burned into his retinas.

                “You wouldn’t dare bring him over if Mom were here,” Kili counters, pushing up off the bed. In the past year his body finally finished the growth spurt which now allows him to tower several inches above his brother and he uses his height to his advantage now as he deliberately steps forward into Fili’s personal space.

                “Mom’s not here and I can do what I want. God damn it all Kili, do you just not fucking want me to be happy?”

                Kili’s teeth viciously score his lower lip as he bites back the words which threaten to spew out of his mouth. _I want you to be happy with me._ It’s a struggle to keep his face impassive like he could really give a shit when all he wants to do is throw himself towards Fili, be able to bury his face in his chest like he used to do when he was younger and the world made sense. Then he got older, Dad died and Fili… _Fili_ —hardly anything in Kili’s world makes sense to him anymore, so he says the first thing which pops into his head: “I’m going to Zayne’s later tonight.”

                The contortions that Fili’s face undergoes would be amusing if Kili’s emotions weren’t twisting his internal organs into knots. It’s almost a physical pain and Kili just wants so badly to bury his face into Fili’s neck, breathe in the scent of his brother’s soap and detergent until everything that’s _Kili_ fades away and all that’s left is _Fili._ Instead, he stands his ground, head tilted provocatively as his eyebrows raise in challenge.

                “Isn’t Zayne the one who just got suspended for two weeks for bringing pot to school?” Kili opens his mouth to protest that it was only a week but Fili’s already moved on. “And then he got in trouble for vandalism? You must be insane if you think that I’m going to let you go over to his house.”

                Kili sneers even though some small part of him is thrilled that Fili feels this protective over him. It’s just because he has to, Kili tells himself, remembering how Fili pushed past him in order to reach his fuck-buddy. That’s who Fili cares about, not him. “Like you can stop me,” he challenges, lip curling in a snarl.

                “The hell I can.” Despite the height difference Fili still has the aura of big brother authority, the sternness in his voice that almost makes Kili want to cower and beg forgiveness. Almost. At the last moment Kili rallies and pushes back into Fili’s personal space until they’re practically chest to chest. Fili doesn’t back down, just turns his head and stares up at him. His brother’s ocean blue eyes have morphed into two chunks of flinty ice. “You’re not going to that party. You’re staying here.”

                “No.”

                Kili’s refusal is simple but the single syllable causes Fili’s nostrils to flare and the tips of his ears to turn a bright shade of pink. “Kili, I swear to God…Mom left me in charge and if I say you’re not going then I mean you’re not—“

                “Mom left you in charge?” Kili interrupts, nails digging into his palms as he imagines what Fili was doing last night, sheets twisted around sweaty bodies, mouths covering each other to keep their moans from awakening him—Only a wall had separated them and he hadn’t suspected anything, never thought that next door Fili would be moaning an unfamiliar name as someone else’s hands mapped out the body which should rightly be _his—_ “You’re doing a great job of being in charge aren’t you? What’s next? You gonna have an orgy or something?”

                “You don’t get to judge what I do! When you’re put in my place then maybe you’ll fucking understand what I do every day for you, how hard I try to make sure that you’re happy and then this is the fucking payment I get—“

                “Don’t try to guilt trip me,” Kili grits out, his temper flaring. “I never asked you to do _shit_ for me—“

                “Stop being such a fucking asshole!” Fili’s patience finally snaps as he roars into Kili’s face. “Where the fuck do you get off telling _me_ what to do—“

                “What about you, you damn hypocrite!” Kili shouts back, his voice tearing as he shoves his face into Fili’s. “Why the fuck do you get to tell me what to do—“

                “Because, that’s why!” Fili roars, his whole face flushing a light pink.

                “Fucking forget it!” Kili spits. His skin’s crawling with the need for a fight, for reassurance for _something_ —And he’s not getting what he needs and he needs to keep on pushing until he gets something, anything because right now he’s invisible to Fili, Fili shoving past him, not looking at him and at least now Fili _sees_ him—“You’re not Dad!”

                Fili’s fist shoots out faster than Kili can comprehend. He just barely has time to register the disturbance in the air before pain blossoms scorching hot along his side. It takes his body another moment to actually register the hit, but when he does he crumples into himself. His right hand moves across his chest to clutch at his ribs while his left flails and clings to Fili’s shoulder, searching for a solid hold as Kili struggles to draw in a steady breath.

                All of Fili’s training pays off—the blow lands high on his ribcage, so there’s no damage, just pain. For a moment Kili concentrates only on the inhale and the exhale, chest screaming in agony as he forces sore bones to expand. That’s all the time he has before hands move over his face, smoothing small tangles of hair away from his eyes, sloppily trailing over his lips and chin. “Shit, shit, Kili, oh my God, I’m so sorry, Kili please, I’m sorry, God, I’m sorry, _Kili—“_

                The knife edge of the pain recedes, only to be replaced by a cold, numbing shock. Fili’s never, _never_ struck him in anger, not once. His chest aches with the blow but worse than that is the betrayal, the rage, the words which hang between them, as filthy and dark as city smog. Kili’s hand rests on his ribs, massaging the sore skin and muscle, as he gestures wildly towards the door. “Get out,” he croaks, yanking his hand off of Fili’s shoulder and weakly pushing at his brother’s solid chest. Fili babbles something at him, hands reaching out to touch him, desperation lighting up his eyes. Kili doesn’t want any of it, Fili’s hands trailing lightly down the stranger’s arms while his fist strikes Kili—“Get the fuck out!” Kili shouts, his voice turning shrill and breaking as his hand slaps at Fili’s arms.

                Fili flees but not without tossing a stricken look over his shoulder. It strikes Kili’s sympathy but he can’t, not with Fili hitting him and then the roughness of Fili’s concerned hands, Fili’s mouth thrown open in pleasure last night—

                Kili bites down hard into the flesh on his knuckle to muffle his scream of frustration, teeth mercilessly digging into soft flesh and meeting the hard resistance of bone. By now the bright pain in his side has faded to a dull ache but Kili still has the memory of Fili’s horrified apologies, his thumbs sweeping over his cheeks—He can’t help but think how perfect it would be if those thumbs moved over his skin in desire instead of horrified regret. How wonderful it would be to wake up to the sight of Fili’s smile, to have Fili’s body heat turning the bed into a sauna.

                How perfect, how wonderful, and how impossible.

 

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

 

**Day 1**

                Kili has to clutch onto the railing along the wall as he makes his way up the stairs. His shoulder drags against the wall, the rough texture of the plaster scraping at his skin underneath the fabric but he doesn’t care at the moment. Right now he just wants to find a quiet place, somewhere that he can curl into himself and rest. The noise from the party follows him as he ascends into the second floor and Kili grits his teeth against the cacophony of sound. He reaches the top step and runs out of support at the same time. Though his head wildly spins as he forces himself to stand still Kili doesn’t fall down and for that he’s proud.

                Kili might have a hard time processing rational thought but his feet still remember the location of Ori’s bedroom, last door on the right. He fumbles with the doorknob for a brief second, his hands feeling too large to operate the delicate piece of work but he finally manages to open the door. His hand swipes along the wall, searching for the switch. By luck he manages to brush up against it and breathes a sigh of relief when the harsh yellow light shows that he’s alone.

                The ground is firm and comforting when he sinks down, his legs suddenly too boneless to support him. The door against his back holds him up, keeping him stationary even while the rest of the world spins around him. Kili appreciates the solidity of the wood, the knowledge that even when everything else seems to be falling apart there’s still one facet of the universe which will support him.

                His skin still remembers how Fili’s body felt pressed against him, the sharp crackle of lightning still humming through his veins. Stupid mistake to make but it was so easy, _so fucking easy,_ to pull Fili up, to mold his body to his brother’s back. It had just seemed _right_ , with the blood pounding in his ears after he’d seen Fili’s lips locked on the short blonde’s, the fuzziness in his head making reaching out and pulling Fili against him seem like the most natural thing in the world.

                If he’d had any self-control then he wouldn’t have dared but it had felt so _perfect,_ Fili’s body moving with and against his own, soft blonde hair against his face, soft scent of shampoo in his nose. For a brief moment he’d been able to fool himself into thinking that this was how his life always was, that he always got the privilege of being close to Fili, to feel his brother’s muscles moving underneath his hands. The illusion had shattered when Fili had pulled away from him, face twisted in disgust but even now, Kili can’t fully regret his actions, not when his skin still remembers the warmth of Fili’s body against his own.

                As the giddy high of his drunkenness fades so does his lackadaisical attitude until all that’s left is the numb horror which starts to seep into him. What was he thinking? How could he have lost control like that? He’s been around Fili before while he was drunk and he’s never, _never_ had a lapse, always managed to keep the barriers in his brain which tell him to treat Fili as a brother, nothing more, _never_ anything more. The more he thinks about the twist of Fili’s lips, the flare of betrayal the more he thinks that he’s going to be sick.

                All it takes is the memory of Fili’s voice, pained and shocked as he asks _“What the fuck Kili?”_ to make his gorge rise and with that Kili’s scrambling towards the small bathroom, the carpet burning his knees and palms as he crawls towards his gleaming personal savior. The porcelain is cool against his cheek and the urge to empty his stomach passes, leaving him feeling empty and drained.

                He’s not sure how much time passes as he drifts in and out of sharp awareness but he does recognize the slow churning of his stomach, the knowledge that the alcohol in his stomach wants to escape. Kili whimpers, trying to deny what’s happening but the sudden dryness in his mouth drives home the fact of the inevitable.

                He’s miserable now, weighed down by guilt and horror, not knowing Fili’s mood but guessing that he’s furious, at least repulsed. It’s a terrible way to end his eighteenth birthday party, huddling over a toilet, alone in a bathroom while elsewhere his brother’s rightfully pissed at him. It makes it worse to think that he could have avoided this whole situation, could have just had the night at his house but no, he begged for Ori to let him have a party, he called in every favor that his cousin owed him. He wanted this, wanted Fili’s body against him, wanted his hands over his brother’s body…He got what he wanted and now he just wants to return to the way things were.

                Another roil from his stomach has Kili clamping his teeth together and groaning in misery. He knows what’s going to happen, knows that he’s fighting against the inevitable but he can’t help it. He whimpers again as he tries to swallow down the urge but he knows that he’s waging a losing battle. Just as he feels himself lose control he has the sensation of large, warm hands sweeping over his forehead, pulling his hair back from his face. A deep voice murmurs words of comfort at him, the sound drifting over him in waves. Kili closes his eyes and falls into the sound, lets the voice seep into him until it relaxes his aching body. After that nothing seems quite as bad, not even the hideous retching which he’s been holding off for so long.

                Afterwards, when his body’s emptied out all the alcohol that he consumed, Kili sags against the coolness of the toilet, relishing the chill against his heated skin. He groans when those large hands hook underneath his armpits, gently pulling him away from his temporary sanctuary. He relaxes and stops struggling however, when he finally puts a face to the deep rumble of the voice, his body sagging in relief and happiness when he recognizes Fili’s tone, his brother’s cologne and hands. His brother came back for him. His brother doesn’t hate him.

                The lightheaded sense of relief is so overpowering that Kili allows himself to be manhandled towards the sink, Fili pressing a cup into his hands. The cool water is a balm to his fiery throat and after a few hesitant sips Kili greedily gulps it down. It’s Fili again that steps in, pulling the plastic cup from his hands before he drinks enough to make himself retch again. “I’m sorry,” Kili mumbles, hands gripping Fili’s shoulders tightly as his brother walks him out of the bathroom. “I’m so sorry.” He vaguely registers Fili wondering the reason for the apology and the reasons crowd his brain until he can’t even think. _Sorry for wanting you, sorry for not stopping, sorry for touching you, sorry for loving you, sorry, sorry, sorry_ —“I’m sorry for everything,” Kili manages.

He can hear Fili’s scoff and feels slightly offended at it but not enough to protest. The guidance of the hand on his back is insistent but soft, steering him across the bedroom until the back of his legs hit the edge of the bed and he collapses backwards. He lies on the bed and stares at the ceiling fan, watching how the slowly rotating blades cast strangely shaped shadows over the walls. He registers the dip in the bed that corresponds to his brother’s weight and turns his head towards Fili.

“I’m sorry because I’m drunk and I’m gross and I just barfed everywhere…” His voice trails off into a pathetic whine as he buries his face into the solidity of Fili’s shoulder. His brother’s shirt is soft against his nose and it smells of the fabric softener that their mother uses. It smells like Fili and Kili drags in the comfort of that scent, until his senses are drowning in it. Fili’s arm winds around him and Kili gratefully sinks into the comfort, allowing his brother to swallow him whole.

“It’s fine,” Fili tells him and Kili lets himself believe the soft words, allows them to sink into his brain. He knows that he has a childlike trust in Fili, an unwavering belief that borders on hero-worship. Normally he tries to suppress that feeling but now, with his head still swimming and his heart skipping uncomfortably in his chest, he indulges. It’s already been such a strange night already and now he wants to return to the familiar, wants to go back to the time when they were children and Fili could soothe away even the worst of his fears with nothing more than a soft word and a reassuring touch.

Something important rises in Kili’s brain and he pushes himself up on his elbows, ignoring how that simple motion makes the world tilt precariously. “I meant it before,” he tells Fili, taking extra care to keep from slurring his words together. “When I said that you were the best.”

He stares at Fili until his eyes blur from not blinking, distorting his brother’s features and making them fuzzy and fluid. His heart beats steadily in his chest, marking the passing seconds. Kili finally blinks and he can see Fili’s lips curl upwards in a smile. His brother’s hand reaches up to cup his cheek and Kili leans into the broad hand, the fingers cupping his face and the palm warm against his face. Everything is so perfect, so calm, he’s drawn to Fili like the sun draws the planets to it and even if he wanted to, he can’t stop—

He registers the moment when his lips touch Fili’s but afterwards he’s too enraptured in the feel of soft skin underneath his mouth, plump flesh moving against his, the delicious press and give, retreat and advance that comes with kissing. Eyes open, unable to miss even a second of this, Kili stares at Fili’s face through crossed vision, noting the darkness of his eyelashes against the pale skin of his cheek, the slight furrow between his brows as his face pushes up, forcing their mouths into firmer contact. Heat blossoms in the pit of his stomach, sparking into a hearty fire when Fili’s mouth opens underneath his.

The first touch of tongues is tentative, the very tips of the muscles prodding at each other, testing new territory. It’s Fili who moves first, sliding along the side of Kili’s tongue and causing the brunet to stifle a gasp. Desire beats a slow, insistent pulse in his blood but all he could do is pliantly return Fili’s kiss, too amazed that this is actually _happening_ to do anything as insane as attempt to take control.

All too soon, Fili’s pulling away but his withdrawal is soft and slow, a natural cessation of affection instead of an abrupt, awkward ending. Kili’s chest glows golden, satisfaction lighting him up as he takes note of Fili’s lazy, pleased smile. “You’re a good kisser,” Kili whispers, because it’s true, Fili’s lips move with surety and practice, pressing hard in all the right places and caressing softly enough to make him crave more. Still, even if it had been the worst kiss of his life it would have been worth it because it was _Fili,_ his perfect brother, who was kissing _him…_

“Thanks. You’re not half bad yourself,” Fili replies and Kili didn’t think it was possible to feel happier but it happens, his heart expanding almost too wide for his ribcage to hold it. A nagging sensation pricks at the back of his mind, screams caution at him but isn’t it too late for that already? Kili grins back, taking the opportunity to trail a finger down the side of Fili’s face, paying special attention to how his brother’s stubble feels underneath his skin. He wants to stay here forever, wants to stretch this moment out for as long as it can reach, until the thin threads snap with nothing holding them together but already his eyelids are becoming heavier, to the point where keeping them open feels akin to weightlifting.

Kili decides to comfort himself with the knowledge that he’s falling asleep beside Fili, that underneath his cheek is the solid muscled chest of his brother. Fili’s arm lays across his waist, its heavy weight a welcome reminder of exactly where he is. Kili fights sleep as long as he can, trying to memorize each facet of this moment so later, when he’s watching Fili flirt with someone who isn’t him, he can recall exactly how his brother’s lips feel when they open to deepen a kiss, remember that one shining night when, for just a few seconds, Fili belonged to _him_ and no one else.

 

 

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

 

**Day 43**

                It hurts, Kili decides, as he wriggles his fingers through the empty spaces where they were just entwined with Fili’s. As soon as Fili hears voices in the other rooms he wrenches his hand out of Kili’s like he’s just been scalded. It feels like ripping a Band-Aid off the skin, except the pain lingers long after the initial sting.

                The small twitch at the corner of Fili’s jaw is the only betrayal of his emotions. Other than the small, involuntary motion of his facial muscles his brother sits stone-faced on the edge of the couch. That hurts worse than anything, worse than the cold breeze touching the palm of his hand. His skin should be pressed against Fili’s—his skin was _made_ for being pressed against Fili’s.

                “Wish you wouldn’t do that,” he mutters, his voice hardly loud enough to be heard over the fake laugh track on the television. He shouldn’t push, should just leave it alone, especially with his mother and Thorin in the next room but he can’t help it. The spaces between his fingers are too wide. The space between him and Fili is too large.

                “Kili…” Fili doesn’t even look at him. Not even a crack appears in his marble mask. Only Fili’s voice, a low warning growl, betrays any hint of emotion.

                “No one’s here but you and me. You don’t have to—“

                “Don’t.” One word, swiftly bitten out between Fili’s teeth, delivered with the sting of a bullwhip. “Just…don’t.”

                Fili doesn’t even deign to look at him, just keeps staring at the television screen like it holds all the answers. Kili keeps his eyes on his brother’s face, willing there to be some small break in the façade, some hint that Fili actually _feels_ something underneath all that steel and stone but there’s nothing. Simmering anger begins to boil over into full fury as he waits for any sort of reaction from Fili.

                It doesn’t happen. He shouldn’t be surprised by now, how impassive Fili can be when he wants to be. It’s always been Fili’s way, to retreat, to throw up an icy wall around himself and wait out the worst of the onslaught. Kili wants to rage at that wall, wants to throw flames and stones at it until it falls down around his feet. He wants Fili to crumble, wants a sign that his brother even _cares_ but he’s not going to get it.

                “Fuck you,” Kili spits. He can’t think of anything else to say, can’t tell Fili how much it _hurts,_ feeling like he doesn’t matter, knowing that at any point Fili could walk away from him and his brother would look as though he was completely unscathed. He wants to shake Fili until he shatters, wants Fili to finally be as ruined as he is—

                Fili flinches as Kili curses at him, nothing more than a slight jerk of his head and a narrowing of his eyes. That’s the only response he gets. The blond doesn’t even turn his head as Kili storms out of the den and up the stairs, ignoring his mother’s curious call. Eager to retreat to the solitude of his room Kili takes the stairs two at a time. He slams the door and finds satisfaction in the violence of the action, the resultant shake of the doorjamb and the sound of the crash echoing throughout the house. Impotent rage courses through him and Kili relishes the burn in his fingers as he clenches his fist as tightly as he can.

                He hates it, hates all of it—the secrecy, the tiptoeing from each other’s rooms in the middle of the night, the constant worrying that someone’s looking too closely. He hates having to maintain distance in public because Fili’s terrified that they’ll see someone that they know. He hates that Fili won’t kiss him without any prompting, that Fili is too afraid to touch him unless Kili practically begs for it. Not for the first time, Kili wonders if Fili is worth this, worth the pain and anger which always seem to be ripping at his innards.

                “Fuck,” Kili hisses as he collapses into his bed. He rolls over so that his face is buried in the plush fabric of his pillow and struggles to breathe through the thick material. His cheek presses in the hot, damp spot created by his breath and Kili mouths helpless curses until they become a meaningless litany.

                This isn’t what he used to dream about, at night when he turned off his lamp and allowed his brain to drift towards fantasies that were best had in darkness. He thought that dating Fili would be exactly like being with his brother, except it would also involve amazing orgasms. And sometimes it is like that, the two of them playing Guitar Hero or riding around in Fili’s Challenger with the windows down, letting the wind tangle their hair. But it seems that more often than not it’s Fili jerking his hand away, Fili hissing at him to stop clinging to him, Fili telling him that now is inappropriate, there’s people around, not here, they’ll talk about it later—The number of excuses that his brother has is infinite but they all amount to the same thing. Kili would like to think that after hopelessly pining after Fili for so long he has a thick skin but the sporadic, unpredictable rejection is beginning to scrape his patience thin.

                He’s going to do it, Kili thinks to himself, steeling his resolve. He’s going to tell Fili that this isn’t working, this isn’t what he wants. He wants Fili to be able to actually be with him, wants Fili to stop shoving him away like he’s ashamed of him. This is not what he had in mind, Fili’s hand dropping his the moment that the front door opens. He wanted so much more than this, thought that they could have so much more than this.

                His newfound decision shatters like glass when he considers the consequences. No more lips pressed against his temple as Fili drifts off to sleep. He won’t feel his brother’s hand against the small of his back as they’re walking, the pads of his fingers leaving scorching hot marks even through the fabric of his shirt. He won’t have Fili’s foot daringly rubbing against his leg during dinner or feel his brother’s hand tracing the outline of his kneecap when his mother and Thorin are deep in their own conversation. No more laughter during kisses, no more gasps that are swallowed up by Fili’s mouth, no more falling asleep wrapped around his brother’s body—Pain shoots through his chest as Kili gasps wetly into his pillow. No, he was wrong. Any sort of contact with Fili is better than none at all. An eternity of this pain would be preferable to even a second in a world where he isn’t able to look at Fili and call him _his._

                Kili fumbles for his phone, grateful that it was in his pocket as he manages to swipe out a hasty text to Fili. _Come upstairs?_ He pushes the send button and hopes that his brother has his phone on him, hopes that Fili isn’t mad enough to ignore his plea.

                It seems like an eternity passes before he hears the distinctive creak of the third stair. Kili’s breath whooshes out of him in one long exhalation that’s barely finished when his doorknob slowly turns. Fili doesn’t speak as he lets himself into the room. He quietly closes the door and turns around. His face might as well be made of stone for all the emotion that he shows. They spend a few seconds of silence staring at each other before Fili finally speaks. “Well?”

                Kili’s suddenly dry tongue flits out to lick at his parched lips. He doesn’t know what to say to Fili, can’t quite come up with the words that express the need and terror pounding in his chest. He stares at Fili, willing his brother to read the naked apology in his eyes. “I…I…” He wants to throw himself at Fili’s feet, wrap his arms around his brother’s strong legs and never let go but instead he stays frozen on his mattress, helplessly staring at angry blue eyes. He holds out a shaking hand, fingers stretched out towards Fili.

                At first Fili doesn’t move. He just stares at Kili’s hand as though there’s a trick hidden behind it. But after a few seconds his shoulders slump and the fight bleeds out of his eyes until all that’s left is exhaustion. “Kili,” Fili sighs, his head shaking slightly. “I don’t…”

                “Please Fili,” Kili whispers, his hand still hanging in the air. “Just come here?”

                Kili’s heart thunders in his chest as he waits for Fili to move. For a moment he’s terrified that Fili won’t, that he’ll remain a rock at the opposite side of his room but finally Fili takes a halting step forward. It takes years, ages, for his brother to reach him, for strong fingers to slide into the spaces between his and press against the back of his hand but it finally happens. The touch grounds Kili, makes the world seem a little more stable and he closes his eyes as he savors the feel of Fili’s body, drinks in the scent of Fili’s cologne and listens to shallow breathes which eventually even.

                “Kili, you know why,” Fili murmurs. He steps closer, his knees bumping against Kili’s. “I can’t…I love you but no one else would understand, they wouldn’t…I don’t want this to be broken…”

                “I know,” Kili grits, tightening his hold on Fili’s hand. “I just…I hate hiding, I hate having to be careful…I just want to be able to go out and just be together and not be looking over our shoulders…”

                “We can’t. “ Fili drops to his knees, head pillowed on Kili’s thighs. Kili’s hands drop to Fili’s hair, fingers running through the soft tresses. “Kili, please, you know that…”

                “I do, I know,” Kili manages to say, frustration and futility rising up thick in his throat. His forehead drops to the top of Fili’s skull as he tries to stifle back the helpless rage. “I just…I want it to be different.”

                “It can’t be.” Fili’s arms wrap low around Kili’s hips, a wordless apology which barely softens the blow.

 

 

               

 

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

 

 

**Day –349? –350?**

 

                _This isn’t fun anymore,_ Kili thinks as he stumbles forward. His hands clumsily jerk upwards to stop him from crashing into a table and the impact jolts through his whole body, making him whimper and close his eyes. Everything’s swimming in front of his eyes and his vision keeps blurring unexpectedly. It reminds him of driving with bad windshield wipers—everything seems fuzzy and focusing is a task beyond his skills. He takes an unsteady step forward, only to have his stomach lurch into his throat.

                “Fuck,” he quietly whispers to himself as he glances around. He doesn’t recognize anyone and he’s having trouble even placing his location. He thinks that he’s probably the kitchen since there’s a table, but wasn’t there a table in the living room?

Now he wishes that he hadn’t come but after lying in his room, nursing his hurts, he’d made a split second decision, jumped into his Jeep and tore down the road. He’d known it was a bad idea once he’d arrived—there were already several bodies passed out on the couch and the heavy, acrid smell of pot smoke was in the air, burrowing into his nostrils and hair.

                Still, he’d entered, falling victim to the laughter and press of bodies. He’d accepted the beer that Zayne pressed into his hand, taken a hit off the joint that somehow found its way into his hand. The drink and the smoke had relaxed him to the point where he could forget the sharp pain of the bruise high on his side and he’d sunk into the couch, enjoying the soft plush fabric underneath his body.

                Small warning lights had gone off in his head when they’d passed the bowl full of small, brightly colored pills around but he’d watched Zayne and several others take several. _How bad could it be?_ He wondered, reaching in and grabbing several. He’d still hesitated as the warnings of schoolteachers rang in his head but then Zayne shoved his shoulder and a faint twinge of pain vibrated down his side and he’d tossed them back, chasing them down with a swig of beer. It felt as though he were giving the finger to Fili, finally taking control of the runaway wreck of his life.

                Not his brightest idea. Now, instead of feeling in control and powerful, Kili’s barely able to stand. His whole world tilts on its axis and Kili throws his hands out to try to catch his balance. He faintly registers the pain of hitting the floor but it comes from a distance, as though it’s happening to someone else.

                Bad, bad, _bad_. His fingers feel two sizes too large as he fumbles in his pocket and brings out his phone. He has to squint in order to make out the details on the faintly glowing screen and his hands are shaking so badly that it’s difficult for him to work the device. He works more from memory than anything else as his thumb punches various buttons.

                Tremors chase themselves through his body, becoming more and more violent and he curls into the fetal position, knees tucked into his chest as numb fingers bring the phone up to his ear. Kili focuses on the sound of the mechanical ring, once, twice, three times. Everything is still spinning, threatening to throw him off the edge of the world and Kili needs help and there’s only one person that he trusts.

                “What?”

                “Fili,” Kili whimpers as he closes his eyes against the darkness creeping in on the edges of his vision. “Fili…”

                “What do you want?” Fili sounds tired and angry and Kili’s terrified that he won’t come for him, won’t help him and he’s finally done it, he’s finally pushed Fili away from him, he’s lost him forever…

                “Fili, I need help.” Kili’s free hand clutches at his chest, fingernails digging into skin through the fabric of his shirt. His heart feels odd, beating too fast and then lurching slowly in order to regain proper rhythm. “I…I fucked up…”

                “What’s wrong?” Fili’s voice sounds sharper now, more alert and despite everything a faint ray of hope starts to flare in Kili’s chest. Perhaps that’s just his body’s last feeble attempts at sending out an emergency signal.

                “Took something,” Kili mumbles. The floor is so solid, so comforting—even though it’s flipping and spinning it’s trying its best. He only wanted to make everything stop for a while, forget how much it hurt to know that Fili had chosen someone else over him, to know that Fili would _never_ choose him… “Fili…’sall blurry…” There’s something else he needs to tell Fili, something important but he can’t remember what it is.

                “Kili, stay with me!” Fili’s voice is loud enough to split his skull apart and Kili grimaces in discomfort. Why is Fili being mean to him? Fili’s always so nice, large hands that pull his hair back when he drinks too much at the family Christmas party, a smile that lights up the whole room when he’s happy. “Kili, come on, talk to me!”

                “Tired,” Kili tells him. “Gonna sleep now.”

                “No, no, Kili, don’t fall asleep, come on, keep talking, come on, come on Kili… _Kili!”_

 

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

**Author's Note:**

> So it begins.


End file.
